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