The beauteous Whatever World Will make you oo -- But what Hyperborean anthem does it hold Inside its faults and vault, Oo the beauty of Whatever World -- Oo, the features you withhold. The stars, sick crimson Upon a lazy horizon, Lain therein the marzipan striving -- To coo their studious perils. Oo the natural Whatever World. Alone do the wildebeests stalk Some temporal tempests at dusk -- Carry with them discus And embroider their souls with meniscus -- Oo the beasties of Whatever World. Twilight ushers in the coldest sights and fright galore -- Never had it been so sure That Time would ever taste the tentative tumult intertwined; To whom does this belong? With you do I make go oo In the briskly fading shine of Whatever World. Be for me the most obscene, Unhinge those laws which we so bindingly contract -- Only to you does my oo react. Trudge forward sincerely, Commandeer the air and its sine, The pleasure is mostly mine -- Do make haste at the arrival of discovery -- We cannot wait, too, oo -- Whatever World is out there Waiting to be reeled Across the fiery, brimstone plasma jaws Of Whatever Galaxy Which it sits in.