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