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