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