Vasco Rossi che ironia

How ironic
This disease
That doesn't let me sleep
That never goes away
How ironic, to be told
That there is nothing what to do to heal
There is no doctor, there is no doctor
There is no doctor, there is no doctor
How ironic
I'm big, big
And intelligent, 'At the mercy'
Of a domineering and bad little girl
How ironic, this disease
That doesn't let me sleep, that never goes away
There is no doctor, there is no doctor
There is no doctor, there is no doctor< br/>