He just finished eating dinner
And stepped outside the cave to smoke
A cigarette he’d made from rolled up photo paper.
They were pictures of things back on earth.
He looked out on the greyish white expanse of
The uninhabited terrain he now called home.
He’d seen plenty of mirages and imaginary visitors up until then,
So he wasn’t sure what to think when he saw swans,
And they were wading on the shores of a pale white lake
That he’d never seen there before.
And it was quite beautiful and it was far away
Cause everything beautiful is far away.
He knew he was as good as gone
But gone was somewhere he really didn’t mind going to.
Since the shuttle had crashed, many years had passed
And the pictures of his loved ones
That the drew on the walls of the cave had finally faded.
He put out his smoke and proceeded toward the lake
Repeating to himself “Everything beautiful is far away.”