Freguês da Meia-Noite

Midnight
In the middle of Largo do Arouche
In front of the Flower Market
There's a French restaurant
And there I waited for you

Midnight
In a cold that is a scourge
The pastry chef and her sweets
Always come to offer
Iridescent pleasure

And there's no denying
That the dish to be offered
Doesn't make her salivate

In a room of illusion
My dog that doesn't bark in vain
In the cold friction I meditated
This time I won't be your midnight customer

Midnight
In a cold that is a scourge
The pastry chef and her sweets
Always come to offer
Iridescent pleasure

And there's no denying
That the dish to be offered
Doesn't make her salivate

In a room of illusion
My dog that doesn't bark in vain
In the cold friction I meditated
This time I won't be your midnight customer