Flight of the Challenger
| © 1986 - 1992 by Alton Teague |
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| (Started 4 July 1986, final draft 25 December 1992) |
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| The right stuff flows through the veins |
| Of men and women bold |
| Who ride to space on wings of fire |
| Through vacuum, heat and cold |
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| In capsules, cans, and spiders gold |
| They went against all fear |
| Blazed trails above and left their tracks |
| Upon the last frontier. |
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| The night was cold as ice built up |
| At twenty-four degrees |
| Technicians swarmed all round about |
| To counteract the freeze. |
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| Then seven crewmen climbed aboard |
| And settled into place |
| While tons of fuel poured in the bird |
| To lift it into space |
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| Hydrogen, millions of pounds |
| In liquid form flowed in |
| While far below the lower tank |
| Was filled with oxygen. |
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| Eighteen inches big around |
| The fuel lines fed the beast |
| Gigantic nozzles at the rear |
| Combined with violent heat |
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| Then on each side with silent strength |
| The solids, massive things |
| Tremendous pressure, massive thrust |
| Contained with rubber rings |
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| But winter cold had shrunk the seals |
| So gases could leak past |
| As preparations went ahead |
| This flight would be the last. |
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| The liquid engines sprang to life |
| An invisible flame |
| Then the solids both lit off |
| A mighty force to tame. |
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| Strong forces built up below |
| Until the bird could fly |
| And with the release of clamps |
| It roared into the sky. |
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| Then several seconds later |
| It went into its roll |
| Climbing high on stalk of flame |
| All of its systems go. |
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| But far below another flame |
| Jetted out upon the tail |
| And as the bonding strap warmed up |
| The mounts began to fail. |
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| Accelerating swiftly, |
| It punched through thinner air |
| And then it reached the sonic wall |
| A final hurdle there. |
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| The weakened mounts did flex and stretch |
| Under increasing strain |
| Unknown to the seven souls |
| It would not hold again. |
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| At throttle-up they pushed it on |
| Since all systems were still go |
| But as the forces bent the joint |
| It suddenly let go. |
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| The tank abruptly ruptured |
| Spilling fuel into the air |
| It mixed, it sprayed, it hit the flame |
| And detonated there. |
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| Explosion shattered the whole craft |
| Like an atomic bomb |
| Then, loosed from their heavy load |
| The boosters did fly on. |
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| Debris rained down an hour, then |
| The news crews ran their spin |
| While salvage crews set forth |
| To find what, why,and when. |
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| Seven lives snuffed out so soon |
| As we're so often told |
| But on that day your time is up |
| Where does your future go? |
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| When each of us one day expire |
| And stand before the Lord |
| To give account of all our days |
| According to His Word. |
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| A score and six times thousand days |
| We average in our lives |
| But average means that some cut short |
| Some long, just roll the dice. |
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| So that day may come tomorrow |
| Or another fifty years |
| Have you, my friend, been ready |
| Or do you hide your fears? |
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| Because we have but just two paths |
| Through time that's without end |
| Eternal life, eternal flames |
| Choices made by our sins. |
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| We're saved by grace and not by works |
| Says Titus 3 and 5 |
| Because we're never perfect |
| Our own effors won't survive. |
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| So if you have that pure right stuff |
| Of men and women bold |
| Who ride to space on wings of fire |
| Through blackness bitter cold |
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| Or just ordinary people |
| Who are struggling through their stuff |
| Your righteous is like filthy rags |
| Works are not good enough. |
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| It takes the blood of Jesus Christ |
| On that cross so long ago |
| To wash us, cleanse us of our sins |
| So our systems will be go. |
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| So on that day our bodies die |
| And just our souls remain |
| We travel far beyond the stars |
| Into His domain. |
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| But if you are not ready |
| On the day that trumpet blows |
| While those redeemed by His Blood |
| Go up, you will not go. |
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| To soar beyond the galaxies |
| Away from time and space |
| You have to get your tickets now |
| And get reserved your place |
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| There's just one shot at this you see |
| There is no second chance |
| To walk upon the streets of gold |
| Forever, no backward glance. |
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| So if you ride on wings of fire |
| Or walk across the street |
| The day your number does come up |
| The Maker, you will meet. |
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| And if you have your tickets |
| He will take you in |
| But try to get there on your own |
| You'll just die in your sin. |
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| So please accept that gift of life |
| He gave us with His Son |
| So if your Challenger explodes |
| Your race in life is won. |
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| Don't put it off, your time may come |
| Much sooner than you think. |
| Take His cup, accept his offer |
| Sit up and take a drink. |
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| Then righteous stuff flows through your veins, |
| You men and women bold. |
| Now aim for space, with wings of fire |
| In vacuum, heat and cold. |
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| No capsules white or spiders gold |
| And nevermore have fear |
| Cause Christ blazed trails and left His tracks |
| All for YOUR last frontier. |
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