The Pegasus Awards


Kathleen Sloan

Pegasus Award

Award Year Category

Best Adapted Song

Pegasus Nominations

Year Category Sample
2015 Best Adapted Song
2014 Best Adapted Song
2013 Best Alien Song


Copyright ©1997 by Kathleen Sloan, All Rights Reserved
Heavily derived from the short story "They're Made Out Of Meat" from the collection "Bears Discover Fire" by Terry Bisson

Used by permission

We travel  ‘cross the galaxy in search of life, to contact, log and welcome is our task
But the only sentient race that we have found here, you won’t believe, it’s hard to even ask!

They’re made out of meat, nothing but meat
They’re meat when they’re born, meat when they die and nothing but meat in between
They’re made out of meat, completely meat
This is inconceivable, what are we to do?
Calm down, that can’t be the explanation
What about their messages to the stars?
We’ve intercepted radio waves a plenty
Surely meat couldn’t have sent those?

The radio waves are made by machines
Who made the machines, that’s who we really want to meat (interesting choice of words there)
Meat made the machines, all the machines
Yes, this meat is sentient, what are we to do
Maybe they are only part meat
A meat head with a plasma brain inside
or they’re carbon based and go through a meat stage
We’ve seen races such as these far and wide 
(You’re not listening are you?)

They’re made out of meat, all the way through
We’ve probed enough of them to know, there’s no doubt it’s true
We’ve studied them well, through several life spans ( which didn’t take long, do you have any idea how short the life span of meat is?)
This is unbelievable, what are we to do
If they’re only meat, then what does the thinking?
Are you telling me they don’t have a brain?

You’re not getting what I’m trying to tell you
So I’ll repeat it for you once again

They’re made out of meat, the brain’s made of meat
Conscious meat, thinking meat, meat that loves and dreams
They’re made out of meat, completely meat
Meat that’s tried to contact us for hundreds of their years
Omigod ! you’re really not kidding
So what does this meat have in mind?

It wants to share ideas and information
And contact other races not its kind

So what do we say to pieces of meat  (hey meat.... what’s cooking?)
Can we use our radio will they understand a thing?
They make sounds with meat, flapping meat
If they squirt air through their meat, they can even sing
So tell me please what do you advise here
Officially or unofficially?
Well we’re supposed to contact all sentient races
But I suggest we wipe the records thouroughly

Oh yes I agree but how will this work
How many planets are there, can we contain them all?
Can we pretend there’s nobody home
that no one came to answer their interstellar call

They must travel in special meat containers
Without these they can’t go anyplace at all
And meat is limited to C-space
So their chance of finding us is very small

The ones that you probed, what will they say?
We went into their heads and smoothed out their meat
They’ll think that they’re nuts, or we’re just a dream
We’ll mark this place “ unoccupied” case closed, nice and neat

Are there any others here for us to contact
Yes a star cluster who wants to be friends
They always come around to want to join us
And why not?  How unbearable it would be to be alone.




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