“We were contentedly spending the evening riding along on the Gypsy Vagabonder, drinking a well – bruised but capable red in the restrained elegance of the dining car, when we spotted a sign for a town whose name we couldn’t even pronounce. Naturally, we disembarked. We had no idea where to go, but we soon found a hippie – gypsy cabbie who seemed perfect for our fare, as he said driving curbed his heartbreak and thus he’d happily go nowhere in particular. He agreed to let us stow our luggage inside the cab and ride along up on the luggage rack (our one demand). So off we went, destination unknown. As the sun went down, a cooling breeze set in. Soon, a tapestry of stars and a coating of Prussian blue began to weave their way into the fabric of the sky, and a big yellow moon found shelter in the welcoming confines of a village we were passing. I looked over, then I looked up, then I looked out, and then I looked at you; and I realized I would follow you anywhere. You are the walls that form my sanctuary, the light that softly sets upon my horizon, and the lusty mystery that fills my dusky nights. You are the reason I go and the first thing I want to see when I get there,
and I would follow you, my love to the DARK SIDE OF THE MOON.”
