Born To Outrun Gravity

An atmospheric spoken word transmission that I turned into lyrics and fed into SUNO. Complete SUNO version link below.

Titled :

Born to Outrun Gravity

-----Mark Groaning

[hangar ventilation hum]

[distant docking alarms]

Cold alloy beneath your boots.

Hydraulic mist rolling low across the bay floor like artificial fog.

Smell of ozone. Burned coolant. Ionized metal.

Somebody’s old cargo hauler groaning three docks over.

[slow pulse synth]

Helmet seal locked.

Gloves online.

Check the pressure.

Check the relays.

Check the fuel mix.

Check the thermal bleed.

You don’t skip steps when vacuum’s waiting outside like a hungry god.

[reactor whine rising]

Then...

the core wakes up.

Low at first.

A vibration through the seat frame.

Through your spine.

Through your teeth.

Like the whole ship is remembering it was born to outrun gravity.

.......

Patchwork vessel.

Half scrapyard. Half miracle.

Hull plates welded from three different worlds.

Navigation system held together with recycled relays, hope, and bad decisions.

But she flies.

Oh.....she flies!

Tower chatter crackling through the headset.

Static ghosts. Old pilots. Freight lanes.

Weather warnings.

Nobody sounds fully awake this close to dawn.

.....

You taxi slow through the canyon of floodlights.

Beyond the shield gate,

the night opens.

Stars waiting like ancient fires.

And then—

full burn.

Whole ship trembling against the pull of the planet.

Gravity gripping the hull like it doesn’t want to let go.

Warning lights flickering.

Atmosphere screaming across the frame.

Bolts rattling. Panels shaking. Heart hammering.

You feel every ounce of the world trying to drag you back down.

....

But the nose keeps climbing.

Cloud layer.

Storm layer.

Black sky.

Then,

the veil breaks.

Silence.

Not true silence— ship silence.

The soft hum of systems. Air recyclers breathing. Radar ticks. Your own pulse inside the helmet.

And outside,

infinite.

Weightlessness sliding through your body like a spiritual event.

That strange floating moment where up and down stop meaning anything.

......

Maybe that’s why the old stories called them star children.

Not because they were born there,

because part of them could never fully belong to the ground again.

........

You pass dead satellites.

Ancient relay stations.

Derelict freighters drifting like forgotten whales.

And somewhere ahead,

fuel stops, smugglers, pilgrims, miners, wandering signal ghosts, and kids staring upward from dusty little worlds dreaming of escape.

Dreaming of this feeling.

.....

The first time the engines catch.

The first time gravity loses.

The first time you realize the stars were never distant.

Only waiting.

[fading synth drift]

Born to Outrun Gravity

----Mark Groaning

https://suno.com/s/6XQK57gv2pDqA8dy