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