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