Will you do me a favour, Piano Man please?
I want you to write me a song ..
They call me the hero of Antelope's Run
And I've gotta show them they're wrong.
You see, it all started a week ago
In the bar down on Corridor 3
There was nobody there but us regular bums,
Two losers, the barman, and me.
Floppin' 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, then the air pump cut out,
And the bartender started to pray.
"Aw, 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 for 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 Jed
To tell 'em all how to survive.
"Break out the suits," said the captain to them,
"'Cause it's dark and it's airless and cold.
But I swear I can get you all of here safe,
Packed into the Antelope's hold."
"Molly," he asked, "Can ya 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 lock 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 the helm and the nav,
With the manuals spread out all over the deck,
And a mind for what they didn't have.
She worked at that comp like a crazy machine
While her hands shook like grass in the breeze;
But her skill was 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 Moll,
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 said.
They call me a hero, now, for what I did,
But they don't mention Molly and Jed.
So write me that song, now, Piano Man 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.
'Cause some kind of heroes are lunkheads like me,
Who only do things that they're told.
And some kind of heroes are out for the glory,
They're heroes on purpose, and cold.
Some become heroes for bravery, sure,
And some just because all is lost.
But a few are the heroes like Molly and Jed,
Who give without counting the cost.