Marta, take me away
from liberty, which is not always poetry,
from the tinfoil stars and from the last fairy's sandpapers covers.
Marta, take me away:
I fit well inside your skin; you're mine!
Let me into your life, I love you, I'm not intrusive, we'll fit.
Marta, take me away;
don't leave me in the frying oil smoke from a pub,
to my poet and bewitched cards cheat nights, (and) to the bitter wine!
Marta,
the poetry between teeth does not taste like bread.
Marta,
the tinfoil stars are sharp.
Marta,
you can't die of tenderness; Marta, this is the time to get crazy!
Marta always smells a rat.
A man undresses only when he feels too cold.
Only after something inside got broken, you realize that even a bed man has a heart.
Marta, tie a clear look,
about my Baroque vice, to my eyes.
Your tenderness was in a wolf's den. We can start over.
Marta, take me away:
I fit well inside your skin; you're mine!
Let me into your life, we'll fit, kick in the door, I love you!
Marta,
the poetry between teeth does not taste like bread.
Marta,
the tinfoil stars are sharp.
Marta,
you can't die of tenderness; Marta, this is the time to get crazy!
Marta,
the poetry between teeth does not taste like bread.
Marta,
the tinfoil stars are sharp.
Marta,
you can't die of tenderness; Marta, this is the time to get crazy, now.
Marta, take me away,
don't leave me in the oil frying smoke from a pub,
to my poet and bewitched cards cheat nights, (and) to the bitter wine!
Marta, take me away:
I fit well inside your skin; you're mine!
Let me into your life, we'll fit, kick in the door, I love you!
Marta,
the poetry between teeth does not taste like bread.
Marta,
the tinfoil stars are sharp.
Marta,
...
Marta,
the poetry between teeth does not taste like bread.
Marta,
the tinfoil stars are sharp.
Marta,
...