Parked at the edge of the world too long, Night holds tight, humming the wrong song. Warning lights say “hold,” but I choose burn Nose to the dawn; feel the day turn. Countdown in marrow, hand on the thruster, Fear on the hull... watch me out-luster. Jettison doubt, let it drift Three… two… HIT THE PLASMA BLOOM... AND KEEP BURNING! Kick from the dark, I cut on through, Stage one falling, the sky turns new HIT THE PLASMA BLOOM... AND KEEP BURNING! Maps of “maybe” taped to my dash, Peel them back... airlock trash. Slingshot the past off a fading star; Plot my own window, push it far. Gloves on steel, hatch wheels turn, O2 tastes bright when the engines burn. Vector is mine... watch me align Say when... say now! HIT THE PLASMA BLOOM... AND KEEP BURNING! Gravity’s grip thins to a thread, I write the course the old me fled HIT THE PLASMA BLOOM... AND KEEP BURNING! Comfort was a capsule with windows shut. I crack the visor. Breathe the sun. Not a passenger. Pilot. Hands don’t shake when the future’s mine Light on the hull, heat on the line. HIT THE PLASMA BLOOM... AND KEEP BURNING! Hands on the helm, I set the tone, Far-sun blaze... this vector’s my own HIT THE PLASMA BLOOM... AND KEEP BURNING! and keep burning...
