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Divine, you are scheduled for the dance
and in the shiny ship you will slide
in your metal hands there are reflections of roses
and wind and cars hang from yesterday.
Mimosa I will tell you when the moon sings
and your face will be a star on my pedestal.
Gently embraced your impassive wolf
we will dance all our lives in the dances of Mars
rock!
You talk about the light and I talk about the night
when the monsters have a woman's name.
David Bowie knows it and so does your mom.
There are things at night that are better not to see.
I see you dance with stickers on your ass
and you move the faces of your fans with your rhythm.
You are a golden witch, you are a little gangster
you were with Kaka de luxe but I didn't hear you sing