Moon Spy

I've taken a dive, Moon Spy.  A little ride over the galactic rim.  I got to fly over a moon bow and into a day glo  psychedelic trip.  All the little points emerge as rainbow dusted hues, cruising by the sidereal planes.  I'm adding fire.  I'm lighting the celestial torch on my porch.  Dark places.  We go with rockets by the brain farts of the suicide squad.  They squat in their nativity by the Devil's Gate.  Take it away, demonic rocks.  I'm out of your league.  I'm flying through space time and avoiding your superstitions.  We'll play rockets.  No church top reaches up that high.  Singing it up to "heaven" but your heaven is high.  Turn the days, this sunlight daylight day into a cornucopia of nourishment.  Cut off that devil's horn and feed the hungry.  At night we build rockets.  We fly them, too.  Cosmic ruins blow dust as we hellions cross the sky.