Pleasure
Vinicius Cantuária, Arto Lindsay
There is pleasure and there's pleasure
Places you might say you've never been
You can say there has to be a limit
No air could ever be this rare or this fine
Where did you get that skin you're in
Fits like the one you want to leave behind
In all its innocence my samba
May be hiding some malice within
Not every thing that gives me pleasure
Goes out through the same door it came in
