The moon is young and the night is hot.
Shooting stars are falling.
And I'm dripping with sweat all over.
It's dark and I can't see your face.
Down below we can hear how
The wheels of the night drivers screech.
And I love you in pitch darkness,
on the last floor of the solitaire.
Kiss me, touch me with your lips.
With lips like trampled thunder .
The moon is young, and the night is hot.
The stars are swarming overhead.
Most smell of late summer,
and you smell of rare field grass.
Sometimes when the light flashes,
big neon signs,
I see your tender eyes
caressing me from the darkness.
Kiss me, touch me with your lips.
With lips like trampled thunder .