If I clean my rocket
We'll go flying today
And we'll hit the pockets
Of warm and crispy air

Oh, you lovely boy
You smell so sweet
We ride so well
And we load our pistols
As we perch upon my razor wings
Up to the planets
Up to the bodies of the galaxy
We fly, we feed, we suck, we bleed, we need . . .

If I clean my rocket
We'll go flying today
And we'll hit the pockets
Of warm and crispy air

Oh, we flee the scene
Of our little crime
We feel so free
But the hounds of law
They bite our heels
As we retreat
Up to the planets
Up to the bodies of the galaxy
Of the galaxy
We fly, we feed, we suck, we bleed, we need . . .