My pilot's safe within his pod.
Emperyean, immortal god.
No mortal troubles, bills to pay.
Just stars and space, no night or day.
My mind is backed up on hard disk.
My heart beats faster when at risk.
No scram, no web, no point, no bubble,
can touch my ship or cause me trouble.
I fly from Doril to VOL-MI
And from there off to HED-GP.
Untroubled, laughing, loving it.
No bombs, lost hulls, or fatal fits.
No MWDs have yet burned out.
We haven't lost too many scouts.
Flying frigates, dessies, dictors
Shooting cruisers, missing ceptors.
Unharmed, unruffled, innocent.
No sec loss here. (Well, a little bit.)
Log out and sleep. Another roam
is passed in ease. We made it home.
No horrors here, no sudden gank.
No waking up in a pod goo tank.
No slip from victory into sorrow.
But there's always tomorrow.
Scribbled down while scouting for Redemption Road today. With apologies to Mike Reed.