Mach 1, speeding up to mach 2.
Fly carefully, lest the red planet rocks you,
Or mocks you.
So journey through the heart of a poet.
Landing on the Euwaite Field, so don't blow it.
The captain's voice sneaks,
From the speakers to speak,
Rather quickly,
Like his mouth has just sprung a leak.
The seat belt signs do a flash dance.
Donna Summers must be singing our Last Dance,
Maybe this is my last chance.
To orbit around under billions of stars,
Before I make a crash landing on Mars.
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