I'm still dancing on red plastic;
The Moon is so generous,
To offer her goblet to me.

I don't try to let myself go;
The repression is too dishonest when,
I summon my blue nature.

Sometimes,
It's easy to set the desires free,
In order to get a good communion with the earth;

The pleasure has been rooted centuries ago,

So it's not new that our psalms contemplate,
The purity of our flesh.