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leslie fish - some kind of hero lyrics
will you do me a favor, pianoman, please?
i want you to write me a song
they call me the hero of antelope’s run
and i’ve got to show them they’re wrong
you see, it all started a week ago
in the bar down on corridor three
there was n0body there but the regular bums:
two losers, the barman, and me
slopping up booze in the north corner booth
was the old man they called captain jed
‘cause he owned a tramp freighter, the old antelope
a ship that, like him, was half dead
now molly, they say, was a crack pilot once
a gal with a brilliant career
but then she started doping on regulus one
and finally washed out down here
and me, well, i wanted the navy, bad
but it seems that they didn’t want me
so i stopped chasing stars, started sweeping up bars
for bed, board, and all my drinks free
it was quiet that night, with the docks closed down
there was nothing due in for a week
not a ship was in port but the old antelope
when the red alert started to shriek:
the whole station shook like a hurt living thing
then the lights dimmed and faded away
then the gravity went, and the air pumps cut out
and the bartender started to pray
“ah, stow that bilge, head for the antelope now!”
jed’s voice cut the dark like a knife
“the station reactor’s gone critical load
so run to the docks for your life!”
when we got to the docks, we found waiting out there
every soul that had been left alive
they begged with their eyes for poor old captain jack
to tell them all how to survive
“break out the suits,” said the captain to them
“for it’s dark and it’s airless and cold
but i swear i can get you all out of here safe
packed in to the antelope’s hold.”
“molly,” he asked, “can you navigate?”
“aye,” she said. “who do we have for a crew?”
“the antelope needs only three hands,” he said
“and i think our young friend here will do.”
the confident look that he flashed at me then
made my heart turn over with pride
i never once thought about backing away
i think i would rather have died
two hundred alive in the antelope’s hold
and the captain, and molly, and me
we slammed the locks just as the station blew wide
jed hit the main jets to get free
now, that kind of g-force is rough on the heart
too much for his ticker to take
so when we came around and we saw how he lay
we knew captain jed wouldn’t wake
so i took the comm, and the engineer board
and molly took helm and the nav
with the manual spread out all over the deck
and her mind for what they didn’t have
she worked at that comp like a crazy machine
while her hands shook like gr-ss in the breeze
but her sk!lls were still sharp, and she jumped us three times
never minding the shakes and dts
three jumps made clean, only one more was left
when the ship’s alarm started to blast –
her old worn-out seals had come loose in the stress
we were losing our heat and air fast
on the bridge, there was only one vacuum suit left
well, they say lady luck is stone blind
“heads or tails,” was the question i started to ask
when i felt myself hit from behind
when i came to again, i was sealed in the suit
she was belted down tight in her chair
with her hands on the console, a smile on her lips
and the ice on her face and her hair
“here’s the instructions to get us all home,”
i saw she had left on the screen
“if any old shipmates should ask after mol
just tell them she finally died clean.”
i made the last jump just like she told me to
and i brought the ship in like she’s said
they call me a hero now, for what i did
but they don’t mention molly or jed
so write me that song now, pianoman, please
and sing it out often and loud
so they all know the story of one kind of hero
the kind that makes everyone proud
for some kinds of hero are lunkheads like me
who only do things that they’re told
and some kinds of hero are out for the glory
they’re heroes on purpose, and bold
some become heroes for bravery, sure
and some just because all is lost
but a few are true heroes, like molly and jed
who give without counting the cost
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