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