To the tune of "The Rocks of Bawn" (with a bit of shoehorning - let's face it, you have to struggle a bit with the original to get the lyrics to fit the tune!).

Come all you loyal heroyos, who feel the need to soar
Pay heed to me and you'll surely be inclined to fly no more
The tale of poor Steve Bennett is a sad one to relate
But if you attend from start to end you will not share his fate

It was in the year two-oh-oh-one, that first the notion came
To build – bespoke – a rocket yoke to help achieve his aim
To ascend on high, beyond the sky, to shrug off the cocoon
His lowly name would garner fame, as he landed on the moon

He found a cement mixer and from it made a shell
That fitted snug (with shove and tug) and protected him right well
And a barrel, long and sleek and strong, from old scrap steel he cast
And with fertiliser, he did try sir (Sorry!), to generate a blast

But unbeknownst to Stevie boy, the news had spread abroad
And a Norway crew, who were planning to tread the very path he'd trod
Became upset and wouldn't let bold Stevie be the first
And so conspired (so it transpired) his bubble for to burst

Came the day of reckoning and Stevie climbed inside
The crowd were hushed, the button pushed, a crater two miles wide
And Stevie not more than a dot and climbing through the sky
When the Norway clique, who Steve had piqued, caused drama way up high

Those Scandinavian spoilsports set out to cut Steve short
With a weapon cruel, which they'd hand-tooled, and hidden in a fjord
A dread machine, whose contours clean and slick and well-designed
Belied the fact of the deadly act its authors had in mind

It was in the upper stratosphere where the missile struck its goal
A huge King Ed struck centre-dead Bennett's vehi-cole
Momentum lost, he paid the cost, the trajectory was all wrong
Back to the ground, poor Steve was bound, to the Earth where he belonged

The subsequent explosion was heard in Timbuktu
As - justice sweet! - Norway's defeat came right out of the blue
For the looks of scorn of Thor and Bjorn soon changed to looks of dread
As Stevie's shell, like a bat from Hell, loomed above their head

Metal, Stevie, Thor and Bjorn and a cubic mile of fjord
Atomised and vapourised and skywards quickly soared
In a mushroom cloud Steve Bennett proud and those cowards (let's talk plain!)
Bid goodbye, then from the sky, fell to the Earth as rain.