As Mariposa

Good night, lamp
Good night, butterfly
Allow me to look at your face
No, faster, huh?
Because soon they'll erase me

The moths when the cold arrives
It keeps going around the lamp to heat itself up
They spin, spin, spin and then sit down
On top of the lamp plate to rest

I am the lamp
And women are butterflies
That keeps coming back to me
Every night just to kiss me

The moths when the cold arrives
It keeps going around the lamp to heat itself up
They spin, spin, spin and then sit down
On top of the lamp plate to rest

It's very good
But you won't get used to it
Did you hear, little moth?