The Planet Of The Ballard Of A Space Faring Lad

As I was a-floating around St. James Orbital.

As I was a-floating around there one day.

Who should I spy but one of my comrades.

All wrapped up in tinfoil and green through to gray.

I asked him what ailed him and what systems failed him, I asked him the cause of all his complaints.

‘Twas all on account of some Venusian young beauty.

‘Tis the reason why I weep and lament.

If she had but told me before she infected me.

If she had but told me her species in time.

I mighta seen Saturn or even ol’ Mercury.

But now I’m gestating this alien slime.

Get six young spacegirls to carry my coffin!

And six spinning satellites to broadcast my song.

And let each of them bear a bunch of high ordnance, in case anything hatches as they bear me along.

So aim for the sun and plot my course carefully! And countdown real quick to send me along!

And blaze a bright rocket up under my coffin!

Singing: “There goes a space faring lad to his home!”