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