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