The Commander Thinks Aloud
John Morgan Roderick
Boys and girls in cars
Dogs and birds on lawns
From here I can touch the Sun
Put your jackets on
I feel we’re being born
The tropic of Capricorn is below
We stall above the pole
Still your face is young
As we feel our weight return
A trail of shooting stars
The horses call the storm
Because the air contains the charge
The radio is on
And Houston knows the score
Can you feel it we’re almost home
The crew compartment’s breaking up
The crew compartment’s breaking up
The crew compartment’s breaking up
The crew compartment’s breaking up
This is all I wanted to bring home to you
The crew compartment’s breaking up
The crew compartment’s breaking up
The crew compartment’s breaking up