One day in Naples, an old man told me
we sing because we are happy to be sad
we live with the volcano on our heads
and with death like a crow on our shoulders
then, we sing about life
and we dance with the black angel until we run out of breath
thus in the dialect, no verb is conjugated in the future tense
br/>What is most alive in us is our little ones....
If the clock were to end
the world would be afraid that I would bite it
br/>he would pale before my appetite, my thirst for life
I will push open the doors, I will fight endlessly
I will name these feelings, which I had too much difficulty defining
br/>I will travel the curvature of the globe
fix these treasures in my lobes
more precious than those who sleep in chests
I will know how to learn that those who are cherished with tender heart
are not eternal, one day death comes to take them
I will say sorry to all those I have wronged
I will return to classes and all these projects that I left
one of these days when I was tired of lures
I will fill my hours where all these dreams were aborted in tears
will read this name on the facades graffitied in full letters
praise to the memory of friends hit in the head
I wouldn't want to be a star, nor a VIP, nor a celebrity
just scratch off my medals to the song of honor
as a soldier of hip-hop
I will recount my troubles on checkered paper
I will drown my face in blue, under an Azzaro spray
I I'll have the same friends, the same troubles at the bottom
I'll put my feet up for our mammas
Yeah, it makes them crazy
Like an old man in the country tonight, hum for esteem
tales and stories from our bad lives
we sing when we are so happy to be sad
because we live with death, princess with a magnificent headdress
I will be careful that these walls are not my opium
because I regret that the cops are searching our rooms at 6 a.m.
it's not a life, nothing of thrilling
sitting on the passenger seat, waiting for the accident
will turn left, when the mass turns right
and goes astray sells for champagnes and cigars
a lot of composure for a man of my age
In the absence of conscience
all my acts would be hatched and accomplished in my soul
I will show good meaning
I will no longer play my life in the streets of New York,
To be an idiot, damn it
I will release a strict little maxi, live from my cache
under the cape, it would spin, just to see what I'm capable of
I'll take it to my mother so she can hang it in the living room
I'll be her star, far from the son who's staying at the ball
I will meet you in this café as before
with my silence as the only advance
we would watch the passers-by, hours delirious together
regreening the garden of my joys gone to ashes
outside the dungeon where I was cloistered
you would take me to breathe life in Paris in May
I will always be ashamed of having nothing to offer
Apart from my letters, my heart, but yes, my heart too
I will go to the cinema to ask for two tickets
and spend what is left in my pockets to buy you an ice cream
Take my hand in yours and count down the days
for the moment that flies away and delighted with my days
listen to me singing our hours, the ups and downs
canzone di malavita

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