Plump, drunk moon
You and me baby, just another drive down the 101. The gibbous moon's plump outline stalling low and drunk above the highest tower of the downtown streets. We could go, you know. Just you and I. Take a running start, use the building for one last push and fly. Fly right on up and land on the dark side of that lost, lonely world. Let's go exploring, find what there is. Pink Floyd had it right. The dark side of the moon. Just you and I, baby.
