Hotel night
The satellite dish only captures video clips
Dilution in polluted water
(And pollution is chemical and not organic)
From the blood of the poet
Devilish chant, goofy mime
Hotel night
And the satanic presence is that of a dead devil
In which no I don't recognize Carlos's crooked angel
Nor the other
Just fury and joy
To whom Aunt Jagger asked for sympathy
Hotel night
Hate to Graham Bell and telephony
(Transatlantic call)
I don't know what to say
To this powerful and enlightened woman
Who knows how to explain me perfectly
And no he doesn't understand me
And he doesn't understand me at all
Hotel night
I'm at zero, always the big sucker
And never the mere act of composing a song ão
For me it was so desperately needed

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