We came to Earth to surf the sky
Found the planet had just been sold
Crashed the new deep-space barriers
Raced past rows of hidden weapons
Until my love stopped cold
Laughed
Sang a summer song and pointed
Said that’s our shooting star
And there it stood
The meteor flash meant we’d reached our goal
Our own private beach
Enough air to surf the winds of space
Soon we were streaking new shooting stars
Delicious lips that kiss the sky
When not charging or carving there’s the local show
Wormholes wearing thin
Waiting for timed-out travelers
Who rarely read the schedules
Posted on passing planets
We plan to catch the next asteroid curl
But first must tell you folk below
You’re a figment of a fragment of a fold
Inside a choppy universe not very old
Sorry, must kick out before your new owners show