I have a friend whose hair is quite long,
Wherever you go it was there all along.
Amundsen found it in the deep south,
Chilling on the ice and running its mouth.
“It’s a bit chilly here, how about a drink?
Would you like coffee? What do you think?”
Mariana trench, too, is not too far,
When we get there in an amphibious car,
It’ll be reclining on a piece of coral,
Offer us tea, herbal and floral.
“I have coffee too, take your pick,
It’s super pressure-cooked, won’t make you sick.”
The first Mars-walker will find it on the sand.
“Didn’t that take longer than you had planned?
Would you like juice that’s made of space dust?
Or maybe some coffee to wash away the rust?