GREG: Stuck up here with my space mate.
So long... so long.
I fear the robo-butler will eat me.
Is he gone? Is he gone?
It's been weeks since the last transmission.
Something's wrong... something's wrong.
I look down through the porthole window;
I see bombs. I see bombs.
What am I to do?
The whole universe has become completely unglued.
Thought that we'd come back as champs.
The last girl alive doesn't want me
In her bed... in her bed.
There were other fish in the sea,
But they're all dead. They're all dead.
What am I to do?
The whole universe has become completely unglued.
Thought that we'd come back as champs,
Not as sole survivors of the final fight.
Not as greasy stains on a crashed satellite.