My science fiction twin. Is doing better than expected. He captured a little blonde trophy wife. Who's really very well connected. And when he calls home with his alibi. She says "Is this really necessary?". But she knows that a man can't be a man. Unless he's punishing his secretary. He sips in the glow of a '61 vintage. Just as the day is dimming. With every intention of surrendering. To fifty-foot women. Who put the fascination back into my science fiction twin. My science fiction twin. Decided to become invisible. He has my eyes my face my voice. But he's only happy when I'm miserable. The words flew from his mouth. And they were gently gathered by reporters. Trying to frame his once infamous flame. With tattered pictures of her daughter. Her hair is all made out of porcupine. Her figure is fantastic. But as you know they corrupted her. So they're being sarcastic. Who put the fascination back into my science fiction twin. He'll scream and shout. Everything is working out just as he predicted. Pride and position in the gallery of attempted people. Oh and the pain is so sweet. Better stamp his little feet. And you'll even have time to pity me. How can you feel content?. You wonder where this fellow went. My science fiction twin. Escorted by his lovely nieces. Filled up his purse dictating verse. While painting masterpieces. His almost universal excellence. Is starting to disturb me. They asked how in the world he does all these things. And he answered "Superbly". He's trapped in his own parallel dimension. That's why I'm so forgiving. But how could I possibly forget to mention those fifty-foot women. Who put the fascination back into my science fiction twin.