At 56-7-8-9...It doesn't matter Of a well-known secret street, if you knock on the door First once then three more knocks, you're let inside Alone and sometimes even not alone
A maid, without saying a word, walk in front of you With stairs, endless hallways, come one after another Decorated with baroque bronzes, golden angels Aphrodites and Salomés
If it's not already occupied, say that you want the 44 It's the room that here they call 'Cleopatra's' On the columns of its bed, standing watch, rococo-style Statues holding torches gaze below
And between these slaves, naked, carved with ebony Who will be the silent witness of the scene While above a mirror reflects us Slowly I embrace Melody