To the ground and drown in your “realism”
Pessimistic dismissal of moon shot missiles
Just because your lust for more bit the dust.

Show me that drive to rise free of worry's ties
Let me see your grit when your lip gets split
By the bones raining down like so many stones

And who cares if you stumble on the stairs?
It’s not like there’s no hand rail
It’s not like the vapid, energy sapping, yappers
Have a real hold on those ideals unsold.

Rise strong.