Pra Quem Quiser Me Visitar

I built my little place up in the clouds
where you can chat, where the little angels are the color of beer...
I just have to be careful leaning over
looking at the sea, there...
I play the piano and the virgin sings,
tells the Boy: Uncle Tom.
Make yourself at home, the holy thigh
makes me nostalgic for Leblon.
I know the mornings
that only come in the afternoon
amidst the silence of fanfare,
I saw the Sun envy the wings of the Vulture...
To my friends who stayed behind
a messenger will take
a pair of wings
and a parachute for those who want to visit me.