Dear God,
this is ground control
we're sending you Major Tom
he's taken his protein pills
and put his helmet on
we've commenced countdown
engines on
checked ignition
(three, two, one)
Lift off!
may Your Love be with him
he's really made the grade
he's dared to leave the capsule
he's stepping though the door
he's floating in a most peculiar way
he's seeing the stars are very different today
he's sitting on a tin can
far above the world
planet Earth is blue
he's past one hundred thousand miles
and his spaceship knows which way to go
we've told his wife he loved her very much
(she said: she knows)
can you hear us, God?
can you hear us, God?
can you hear us, God?
may Your Love be with him
Sincerely yours,
Ground Control
P.S. David Bowie 1947 - 2016
P.S.S. R.I.P.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem