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