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