JFK on the Launch Pad

Stepped on campus with the night lights glowing,

Rice in the air and the whole block knowing,

JFK suit with the rhythm in stride,

Talking 'bout stars like a rocket ride.

Go-go in the alley, funk in the hall,

Bass line bouncing like a cannonball,

Moonwalk thoughts in a lecture room,

Turning every doubt into a silver plume.

Hey now, watch the crowd ignite,

When the space talk lands in the Texas night,

We don't just dream, we synchronize,

With a groove so deep it can terraform skies.

Houston, we funky, we breaking through,

JFK in the house with a cosmic view,

Afro-funk thunder in the groove we trust,

Ride that rhythm, kick the dust.

Houston, we funky, we on the rise,

Spitting little stars with a grin in our eyes.

Talking about Mars like it’s just down the street,

Venus got a bounce and a dangerous beat,

Saturn got rings like a fresh gold chain,

Pluto still cool in the far-out lane.

Crowd in the courtyard, hands in the air,

Every clap a spark, every stomp a flare,

From the books to the blocks, from the dome to the sky,

Weaving a future while the speakers fly.

Hey now, watch the crowd ignite,

When the space talk lands in the Texas night,

We don't just dream, we synchronize,

With a groove so deep it can terraform skies.

Houston, we funky, we breaking through,

JFK in the house with a cosmic view,

Afro-funk thunder in the groove we trust,

Ride that rhythm, kick the dust.

Houston, we funky, we on the rise,

Spitting little stars with a grin in our eyes.

Lift off, lift off, let the snare drum call,

From the astro hall to the senate wall,

One small step with a bass so low,

One giant groove when the lights all glow.

Turn the page, let the whole world see,

Space in the mind and funk in the key.

Houston, we funky, we breaking through,

JFK in the house with a cosmic view,

Afro-funk thunder in the groove we trust,

Ride that rhythm, kick the dust.

Houston, we funky, we on the rise,

Spitting little stars with a grin in our eyes.Ride it out on a comet stream,

Rice in the night like a waking dream,

JFK fades but the groove stays bright,

Funky to the moon in the Texas night.