Cold outside

 It’s cold outside

It’s cold outside the spaceship

That religion keep us in, 

It’s not appealing to untether 

Cords that link us to the craft. 

It’s brave to be a pioneer

To head for outer space 

With naught for comfort

As we leave the human race. 

It’s nice to feel the company 

Once we have departed 

To feel the presence of the saints

Who have walked this road before us.  

The communion of the saints

Promises the soul some company

When the hearse has pulled away

And mourners leave the cemetery. 

The happy thought we’ll meet again

With all our tears wiped dry 

We will meet and greet again

In the great tent in the sky. 

Or maybe it’s a solo run

Across the Milky Way

The loneliness of he who leaves 

The solar winds behind.