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