Your skin in the smoke of the wood, dinner hournMakes me high under the violet sky-towernLook all around us, the cut plants regrownLeaning like me to get close to your glownnEven in the city there's a rhythmnAnd it's by this beat that we are drivennOne, two, three, four, I still want morennWhen my planet turns on, I will triple in sizenAs a gesture explaining my love for your eyesnLittle star-beats that wander and hide in the airnTumble drunk just like me in the scent of your hairnnEven in the city there's a rhythmnAnd it's by this beat that we are drivennOne, two, three, four, I still want morennThe feathers that I found might have been yours or minenInvisibly silver on dry grass and vinenAnd the sweater and T-shirt I found at the shorenAre still soaked with the salt from our dancing beforennEven in the city there's a rhythmnAnd it's by this beat that we are drivennOne, two, three, four, I still want morenSeven, eight, nine, give me more time