Whirling round in outer space,
A home from home, at last.
It seems a quite congenial place,
Though travel-times aren't fast:
But still, a species needs a bolt-hole if it's to survive.
We'd better send a letter saying what time we'll arrive.
And what provisions will we take
To while away the time?
For all our children's children's sake,
We'll pack some petty crime.
And so that adults settle in good fettle on its shores,
We'll have to add some ague, plague, and internecine wars.
This is your captain speaking
As we land on Planet B,
We've spent 20 light years streaking
To this brave new world, for free.
Be careful as you disembark, and do what you are told,
There are famine and starvation in our eco-hostile hold.