Giant steps are what I take, walking on the moon.
I wake up every day in the clouds
In the sky
In the space
In the place that I’s made.
I sleeps in a cot
Not in hay
(T’is not a lot)
What can I say
I wear the same suit e’ry day the same way
(I have another for night)
I have several boots I swap in ‘n’ out
But only one feels just right.
I’s bounce in my step
I’s like we first met
like ether, nay bird, nay light (as a feather).
I’s dressed to the nines
I’s tied up in lines
That feed me with air
Sometimes they’s entwines
And I must abort
Cut short the mission at hand tho’ important
But it’s just not worth the risk
I have to contort to get back to normal.
I’s helmet I wear and if you compare it to the hat that you wear at home, it wouldn’t be right, it wouldn’t be fair, ‘cause mine was made just for my dome.
It’s white and ceramic and carbonly clad,
it’s simple in shape
It’s white on the surface
But black underneaths
Much like my soul
Or the bottoms of my feets.
It has radio, antennae, visor and mic’,
It has foam insulation to make it snug
but not tight
It has different lenses from which I can choose
(It depends how I feel
which one I will use).
It’s a large window that’s clear as a bell
It shows me the heavens (and sometimes The Hell)
It shows me the lights
and the magic, as well.
My seat is another thing that is fitted
It has to suit me
That’s where I’s sitted.
it seats only one
I’ve given it some thought.
There’s only one thing that’s missing up here, there’s only one thing that’s want, that’s remiss, there’s only one thing that can sub for your kiss, and that’s the side, I mean sight, of your face that is bliss.