O Morcego

Midnight, to my bedroom I withdraw
My God!
It is this bat, now, see!

In the organic, brutal heat of thirst
Bite my throat, fiery
And scalding sauce

I am going to set another wall up
I get up trembling, close the latch
And look at the ceiling

And still I see it, just like an eye
Rounded, above my hammock
It is there

I pick up a stick, making efforts
I get to touch it, my soul concentrates
(More!)
Which womb produced such fearful birth?

When I
I pick up a stick, making efforts
I get to touch it, my soul concentrates
(More!)
Which womb produced such fearful birth?
My God!

The human conscience is this bat
No matter how much we do
He enters at night
Imperceptibly

In our bedrooms
In our lives
In our minds
In our dreams

Midnight, to my bedroom I withdraw
My God!
It is this bat, now, see!

In the organic, brutal heat of thirst
Bite my throat, fiery
And scalding sauce

I am going to set another wall up
I get up trembling, close the latch
And look at the ceiling

And still I see it, just like an eye
Rounded, above my hammock

I pick up a stick, making efforts
I get to touch it, my soul concentrates
(More!)
Which womb produced such fearful birth?

When I
I pick up a stick, making efforts
I get to touch it, my soul concentrates
(More!)
Which womb produced such fearful birth?

The human conscience is this bat
No matter how much we do
He enters at night
Imperceptibly

In our bedrooms
In our lives
In our minds
In our dreams