GHOST WRITER

Our advanced Airblade jet came down in the mountains.                                                                                      

I spent wonderful times with the woman I love.                                                                                        

Now we're separated with no way of being reunited.                                                                                                              

I look over to our smashed transport jet.                                                                                                            

No way to fix the broken bird unless God came down to lend a hand.                                                                    

No damn way!                                                                                                                                         

We're in the desert on a strange world eight light years from Earth.                                                                            

A distress call was sent moments before impact.                                                                                             

Was it received?                                                                                                                                                           

I pray so.                                                                                                                                                      

My bag full off issues equals your bag full of sweets.                                                                                               

I have a simple silver metal mirror with a hole in it.                                                                                                                  

If I angle it right at the triple suns of this new planet, will they pick my distress signal up on Earth?                                                                                                                                                         

God grant me this wish, I want to see my lady again.                                                                                            

I prepare to murder my comrades to survive; lots of fresh meat.                                                                                     

I've a dream to chase, see my girl again and make love in the summer grass, naked.                                   

She'll be ok on me being a cannibal.                                                                                                            

If I get back.