The moon to whom the poets croon

has given up and died Astronomy will have to be revised...

How fucking romantic, all the stars are out

Twinkling twinkling twinkling, and fluttering about..

I fly like paper, get high like planes
If you catch me at the border I got visas in my name
If you come around here, I make 'em all day
I get one down in a second if you wait