In his nightclub-type house, sitting on a trunk, he is
Without the chairs which, since they were portable, were taken away from him
With unkempt hair and a spinning gait
He ventures into the sea with a windbreaker on his
Ten croissants every morning five in one place then
Change bar
A good face, strange man that you can't understand
If he goes down six steps up four and back down
Lover of natural effervescent mineral
With the obsession of the specialist and of diseases
Roman a big big heart in the midst of
Paintings lost
/>Hey Roman how are you? I'm very sick Lucia
I'm very sick - I'm so sick Lucia
And he has in view an electronic organ with drums
Full of fingerprints from his wife's orange juice
And he tells you his joke about the sheep
Who was born black and after an hour no one knows how he ended up
Romano a big heart with pockets full of
Hey Roman how are you? I'm very sick Lucia
I'm very sick I'm very sick Lucia
Hey Roman how are you doing? I'm very sick Lucia
I'm very sick I'm very sick Lucia
I'm very sick I'm very sick Lucia
I'm very sick Lucia
I'm very sick
I'm very sick
>I feel terrible

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