The Dub Pistols control this shitnBlade is the vocalist, this is the year of the apocalypsenMiles away and we can still see the metropolisnDisappearing slowly into the distance there's no stopping thisnCruising at a leisurely pace as we breeze past the starsnand travel through the Milky WaynWe glide through the air, trekking at the speed of lightnnWe're on a trip to space where the average man 'aint beennThe ground is flooded with rain to keep the Earth cleannWe communicate through radio wavesnWhile the controllers of the ship are seeing sights that amazennSearching on corners of the Milky Way and galaxynYou won't believe the types of things that we were forced to seenWait for the sattelites, wet your appetitesnFrom the distance we see the sun and it's a ball of lightnYou need a microscope to see the Earth even existsnAnd it feels like we've been suspended in space for yearsnNothing to do but think and wonder what we'll see when we landnCould this be the missing link in the bigger plannnThe Dub Pistols control this shitnBlade is the vocalist, this is the year of the apocalypsenMiles away and we can still see the metropolisnDisappearing slowly into the distance there's no stopping thisnCruising at a leisurely pace as we breeze past the starsnand travel through the Milky WaynWe glide through the air, trekking at the speed of lightnnRhymes on tapes mics turn them into space flightsnAerodynamics fly frantic with the Blade, rightnPushing orbital in a low tech, cruising tightnPictures sneaking by from the glare of the computer lightsnShould have bought a thinner window but spent it all on endonFrom the dude at the last stop with three eyes in a flat topnwanted for smuggling and illegal space craftnDon't know if we'll ever make it back now we're off track being chased by patrolsnPull it together, hands back on the controlsnTailspins and barrel rolls out of narrow spacesnTo the center of a meteor, they can no longer trace usnnThe Dub Pistols control this shitnBlade is the vocalist, this is the year of the apocalypsenMiles away and we can still see the metropolisnDisappearing slowly into the distance there's no stopping thisnCruising at a leisurely pace as we breeze past the starsnand travel through the Milky WaynWe glide through the air, trekking at the speed of lightnnThey educated us and even taught us how to breathenGave us the diet of the food that we would have to eatnStick to the rations, never know what could happennRun out of fuel and you might never get back in (word up)nnThree humans in the space of five meters squarednDressed in space suits attached to canisters of airnAlien lifeforms could possibly be a threatnIf that's the case push the button and ejectnThey could be hostile, worse than on the X-FilesnDon't try to talk to them, they don't talk back that 'aint their stylenDont' be a hero, this 'aint a move and you 'aint De NironDon't try to test them because if you do you'll be gone in zeronnThe Dub Pistols control this shitnBlade is the vocalist, this is the year of the apocalypsenMiles away and we can still see the metropolisnDisappearing slowly into the distance there's no stopping thisnCruising at a leisurely pace as we breeze past the starsnand travel through the Milky WaynWe glide through the air, trekking at the speed of light