I fly into space like a shooting star,
Moving at the speed of light,
In a shiny red car,
And out-of-space looms a man with a hat and a cane,
He speaks to me calmly without revealing his name:
So you’re travelling at the speed of light in a shiny red car,
Even then I’m afraid you won’t get very far,
For space is a lot bigger than we first thought, you see?
And it’s an even greater distance between the stars and ME.
I respond:
How are you keeping up?
How are you even here?
I thought at the speed of light there’d be nobody near?
And he smiles,
Though his smile seems more of a leer,
And his motivations seem suddenly even less clear.
