Rhymes with UFO.
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many sci-fi books and books by Edgar Alan Poe.
Then I found a murder story. somewhat morbid and quite gory,
I was reading where the jury were lined up in one long row.
One's a murderer, I figured, one of those 12 in the row.
Then I saw a UFO.

Ah, distinctly I rernernber, it was in the cold November
When the alien did descend here, in his silver UFO.
Watching, I could not descide whether to look or run or hide
When thalien beamed me up inside his silver UFO.
The tractor beam took me into his silver UFO.
I was trapped in the green glow.

And when I dared my eyes t'expose, I saw the only exit close.
My hair and skin and clothes flouresced in the green glow
Then the lights turned slightly red, and I saw something like a bed
I went on it to rest my head, yet my exhaustion seemed to grow,
As I lay upon the futon, my exhaustion seemed to grow.
Was this a trap? I thought in woe.

Then I felt the lethal injection preparing me for fatal disection
It felt just like an infection spreading through, but oh how slow.
The last thought that I encountered was a theory that I doubted,
That the victims's heads were mounted on a plaque and put on show.
Like a human hunter has an animal's head that's put on show.
How I hoped this as not so.

Then when I finally awoke, I felt like I was breathing smoke
I knew that I could only choke when air into wy lungs did flow.
I looked up at the monster, staring at me 'zif I's a popstar,
Taking me back to his own star, in his silver UFO.
Abducting me to take me in his silver UFO.
Quoth the alien, "Hello."

And the alien, seeming lonely sitting there, spoke only
This one word like an old Sony TV set, so slurred and slow.
Not another word he uttered, till softly stuttered
"Hi," and then he muttered, muttered just the word "Hello."
In that slurr'ed voice he muttered, muttered just the word "Hello"
With tears that he tried not to show.

Then the alien started knitting, then walked very door-wise, fitting
A chip into the frame admitting a bird a raven or a crow.
The bird sat at the knitting pile and with a smug complacent smile,
It sarted swallowing it while my confusuion seemed to grow.
Eating half the pile of knitting; my confusion seemed to grow.
Quoth the alien "Hello."

And then, as the ship was slowing, "Sir," I asked, "Where are we going?"
And i did so without knowing why: t'would only say hello.
The alien pointed to his goal, as springs of panic gripped my soul.
Because I knew that I'd been told that to infinity I'd go.
To the end of the infinite endlessness I'd go.
In his silver UFO.

And the alien never flitting still is sitting, STILL is sitting
On the giant pile of knitting that he feedeth to its crow.
And his eyes have all the seeming of a small child's that is dreaming
And the red light o'er him streaming fills the silver UFO,
Covering the threesome in the silver UFO
Quoth the crow: "Forever so."