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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