Cosmopolitans at the Paradise.
    Heavenly Kelly's cosmopolitans make the sun rise.
    They make the sun rise in my blood.
    Under the stars in my brow.

    Tonight a perfect cosmopolitan sets sail for paradise.
    Johnny's cosmopolitans start the countdown on the launch pad.
    My Paradise is a diner. Nothing could be finer.
    There was a lovely man in this town named Harry Diner.

    Lighter than zero
    Gravity, a rinse of lift, the cosmopolitan cocktail
    They mix here at the Paradise is the best
    In the United States - pink as a flamingo and life-announcing

    As a leaping salmon. The space suit I will squeeze into arrives
    In a martini glass.
    Poured from a chilled silver shaker beaded with frost sweat.
    Finally I go

    Back to where the only place to go is far.
    Ahab on the launch pad - I'm the roar
    Wearing a wild blazer, black stripes and red,
    And a yarmulke with a propeller on my missile head.

    There she blows! Row harder, my hearties! -
    My United Nations of liftoff!
    I targeted the great white whale black hole.
    On impact I burst into stars.

    I am the caliph of paradise,
    Hip-deep in a waterbed of wives.
    I am the Ducati of desire,
    144.1 horsepower at the rear wheel.

    Nights and days, black stripes and red,
    I orbit Sag Harbor and the big blue ball.
    I pursue Moby-Dick to the end of the book.
    I raise the pink flamingos to my lips and drink.”