Gotta Make It So

I got a warp core head and a photon spread
I got a nitro burning prime directive
I got an alien race sitting on my ****
I got a mind like a Borg collective
I got a supersonic mouth and it’s headed south
My technique will leave you reeling, oh
And when you’re in my bed, like a Tholian Web
You’ll never be a leaving, no
I gotta make it so
I got a space guitar. I’m a super star
A fuel injected suicide machine
I got a subspace smile and a James Kirk style
I got an ass like you never seen
I got an alien brew and a mutinous crew
I got a Tricorder filled with porn, you know
I got a phaser set on overload
I gotta die and be reborn. Let’s go
Make make make make
I get down every single time I beam down
I won’t burn out or fade away
Because I gotta say
I got the Jewels of Sound. I really get around
I got a Cochrane that’s long and thick
I had a light saber but I threw it away
George Lucas can suck my ****
I know you think I’m done, but I’ve just begun
And I know just where I’m heading
Because I got a star ship and I’m taking a trip
And my warp goes to eleven