I fly the space ship.
All is decided when I hit my giant
red space button.
My giant red button is very important,
thus I am very important.
Be quiet, I am. I don't see you with your big globed
space helmet, or space boots, or space gloves,
or astronaut approved Tang and tube chicken tenders.
You press buttons everyday, but how many of them take you
to space?
I do rotations without touching the hull, and eat my skittles
one by one as they float. It's not big deal, I guess, wait,
aren't you listening to me?
Come here, I'm trying to tell you how I have to use
a vaccuum toilet and why I must train everyday to avoid
muscle distrophy and... oh... you're gone.

People are dumb and unnappreciative,
I'll get the last laugh when I live a life more alive.
I'll just go by myself, then, that'll show 'em.
Everyone will like me when I launch in T minues five...
You have taken a big leap forward recently. Also it seems like your titles are specially formulated to appeal to me or something.

I love the beginning of this one. It's interesting and odd. Near the end I started getting less interested, though. The last stanza doesn't seem like it does much. I think you could have ended it in a better, more interesting fashion.
kill all humans