I've made up my mind
It's a perfect waste of space
It's a demonstration of a perfect time and place
So close to heaven
When I've got no soul to sell
When I can't see your face
I guess I'm doing well
Well, good enough for me
A rocket to the glowing sun
You gotta get on, get on, get on
Destination oblivion
You gotta get on
Back in space where I belong
You gotta get on, get on, get on
If you want to get off
You gotta get on
Forget the feast
Or forget that obligation
But what does it mean
For the plastic population
We can never get enough
But we point our finger well
When it comes to suicide
I guess I'm doing well
And that's good enough for me
A rocket to the glowing sun
You gotta get on, get on, get on
Destination oblivion
You gotta get on
Back in space where I belong
You gotta get on, get on, get on
If you want to get off
You gotta get on
Baby, when i get inside you
I'll be deep in outer space
The further I am into the vacuum
The deeper that i get in you
Beyond oblivion
Outside of time
Ripping through the unperceivable
Leaving all of this behind