Hallo, Metropolitan - Ubiquitous Windows Staring All Ways, Red Eye Notching The Darkness. No Use To Ogle That Slip Of A Moon. This Midnight The Moon, Playing Virgin After All Her Encounters, Will Break Another Date With You. You Fuss An Awful Lot, You Flight Of Ledger Books, Overrun With Multiple Ant-Black Figures Dancing On Spindle Legs An Interminable Can-Can. But I'd Rather... Like The Cats In The Alley... Count Time By The Silver Whistle Of A Moonbeam Falling Between My Stoop-Shouldered Walls, Than All Your Tally Of The Sunsets, Metropolitan, Ticking Among Stars.