In a studio small, '66 was the year,
A dreamer lit warp in a world gripped by fear.
Cameras rolled where no truth dared to go,
Stars on the screen in a desegregated show.

He said peace not plasma, he said hope not war,
Put Uhura on the bridge, let the silence roar.
Gagarin had flown, Vietnam burned slow—
But aboard this ship, the future stole the show.

They kissed past color, they bridged the divide,
With a Vulcan's eyebrow and cosmic pride.
A Russian helmsman, a Japanese sword,
And the prime directive was one spoken chord.

We funk through galaxies, fire through time,
History in makeup and storylines.
We beam in rhythm, deflect the hate,
Groovin’ through space at warp factor eight.

A Captain bold, with fists and flair,
Spock dropped logic like he just don’t care.
Bones with whiskey and moral rage,
All playing truth on a paper stage.

Red alert! We challenge norms,
Alien fashion in perfect form.
Beam me up—no prejudice please,
We disco-fly through starry seas!

So here's to a dream in polyester light,
That said the future can still be right.
No Klingon fear, no Romulan hate,
Just the courage to build a better fate.

Stardust trails and cosmic grace,
Infinite funk in outer space.
Set phasers to groove, set hearts to explore—
We're dancing through history… forevermore.