There Must Be Another,          
        Deeper And Crispier Night:        
                                        
              
                                          
 The  Kind  Of  Night Where  She  Reaches 
 Down  For  Your  Hand  And Says  With  A 
 Smile, "Let'S Blow  Up  That Satellite". 
                                          
 And  There'S Stars And Thunder And Youre 
 Wearing  A Glittery  Translucent  Purple 
 Spacesuit,    All     Gooey     Looking, 
 Contrasted   With  Her   Pearly   White, 
                                          
 And You Take The Hand