The joy of sin sometimes takes hold of me
And it's so good not to be divine
Covering me with humanity fascinates me
And puts me closer to the sky
And I like to be on the Earth, each time more
My mouth just opens and waits
The right, yet profane
Of the world always being more human
Too much perfection shakes my instincts
Who claims to be so perfect
I'm sure that has found a way, savourless
So it won't be flesh and bone, won't be flesh and bone