At number fifty-six, seven, eight, nine, it doesn't matter
If a well known secrets to you, if you knock on the door
First once, then three more knocks, you're let inside
Alone, sometimes even not alone

A maid without saying a word walks in front of you
With stairs in this hall ways, come on after another
Decorated with baroque bronzes, golden angels
Aphrodites and silent maces

If it's not already occupied, say that you want the forty-four
It's the room that here they call Cleopatras
And columns of its bed standing watch rococo style
Statues holding torches gaze benin

And between these slaves naked carved in ebony
Who will be the silent witnesses of this scene
While above a mirror reflects us
Slowly I miss my melody

Melody
Melody
Melody