Segunda Pele [English translation]

At nigh I invite him

Darling, come closer

A sound in his ears

Soon whispers: go

In the neighborhood any she cat

Is bawling like a fan

And then the love bounds us

To the night, sister of ours

When he comes

I make him my glove, my leotard

My second skin,

My wool blancket

It's really cold in São Paulo

Sensation of three degrees

My his shivering

It's not blame of the weather

It's me in his skin

That I caress with passion

In order of his fire burn

His hostess

When he comes

I make him my glove, my leotard

My second skin,

My wool blancket

While the night is passing

To the arms of the morning

We are stil passing

Our teeth on the apple

Our love is awesome

It goes beyond Amsterdam

The rest is the rest and passes

The rest is bubble, is spam

When he comes

I make him my glove, my leotard

My second skin,

My wool blancket

When he comes

I make him my glove or my brassiere

My second skin,

My wool blancket