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