Some wiser man than I once spoke
 That life at heart is all a joke
 But he was not embroiled in smoke
 So it’s pump, me boys, before we choke.
 [bad word]  Pump, me boys, let her fly
 Down to [bad word] and up to the sky
 Bend your backs and break your bones
 We’re just a million miles from home.

The image of my sweetheart’s face
 It fires my heart and sets the pace
 Whate’er the time, whate’er the place
 I’ll find him through the depths of space.
 [bad word] 
I long to lie atop my bed
 With pleasant dreams inside my head
 But pumping’s all I get instead
 I’ll only sleep among the dead
 [bad word] 
My blood is pooling on the floor
 And every second I lose more,
 But there’s so many meds in store
 I’ll do the work of three or four
 [bad word] 
The engine fumes will scorch your lungs
 The air is thick, your eyes are stung,
 But there’s no clean air left [bad word]  This pumping business ain’t much fun.
 [bad word] 
The outer hull is shot to [bad word]  The [bad word] has just one plasma cell
 My joints and muscles ache and swell
 So [bad word] the Rose, and you as well!
 [bad word] 
transport mission gone awry,
 Attacked by Cole and left to fry,
 Is no excuse, boys, let us cry:
 “Today is not the day we die!”