Buzz Aldrin is epic, a hero, but old,
He could stand on the moon and let his scrotum unfold.
It would fall down from heaven, down through the sky,
And create a ladder of balls two hundred thirty nine thousand miles high.
They would dip in the ocean in international seas,
For the people to gawk at and scale if they please.
Rock climbers will tell you, you’ll find easy hold,
On epic old nuts with wrinkles and folds.
The people of earth – from here to waaaay over there,
Will climb up the ladder of gray pubic hair.
See, the extra terrestrial testicles belonging to Buzz,
Are the best mode of space travel there ever was.
So we’ll get to the top and meet on the moon,
And create one single, humanitarian platoon.
For standing up there, looking down on it all,
Mankind will know unity, thanks to Buzz Aldrin's balls.
See that lunar old loony is a hero, indeed!
But dropping his trow would help a world much in need.
If he returned to the moon and put his pants 'round his feet,
Then the world would know peace, hate would be obsolete.
So radio Houston, our problem’s enormous,
We’ve told this to Buzz but so far he’s ignored us.
Testing, oh testing, am I coming through?
Buzz, drop your testes, or bid peace ado.
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