When I was 3, my mother said to me
Eat up your greens and say your grave
While on TV they put a dog in space
And left here there... you should've seen her face
When I was 5, the dream was still alive
And Walter Cronkite said: "One day we'll earn our daily bread
Conducting things in outer space"
But still on earth I thrive... and you pretend I'm not alive
And walk by with my substitute
While I fasten the oxygen valve on my space suit
When I was 8, we shared a cloakrack - it was great
And I pretended I had so much on my plate
I had a speech to write, about moonshot trajectory
And during phonics class, perfected my delivery
Now the band's playing "Hail to the Chief"
While my capsule's out floating by some tropical reef
all the experts can agree on, regarding your motives
in the cape canaveral crash... is that they know nothing
it puzzles me so...
Now I'm full grown, and I've a spacecraft of my own
But there you sit, still upon your Earthly throne
Hey darling, throw this 'space-pup' a bone
Don't touch that dial, don't hang up that phone
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