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