It's hot in here

Its hot in here,
sitting under the August tree.
Hours pass quick through you,
looking at the blue of sky.
I’m almost drowned by the hot wind of the South,
but it doesn’t bother me,
I’m ok like this.

There are things that kill
with the poison of pleasure.
There are places that suffocate
but always you want to return.

Summer in Seville,
where the sun burns more.
August in Seville,
is something to keep.
I’m ok here,
I’m ok here,
I’m ok here.

It’s hot in here,
although night has fallen.
Looks like the rain has forgotten
the keys of its car.
Old women leant out
of the balconies to breath,
old men fill themselves
with beer in every bar.
I’m ok here,
I’m ok here,
I’m ok like this.