Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Gomma, artist - Baustelle. Album song Sussidiario illustrato della giovinezza, in the genre Инди
Date of issue: 15.11.2010
Record label: Il Musichiere
Song language: Italian
Gomma(original) |
Settembre spesso ad aspettarti |
e giorni scarni tutti uguali |
fumavo venti sigarette |
e groppi in gola e secca sete di te |
tue cartoline-condoglianze |
«hello bastardo ci vediamo» |
l’adolescenza che spedivi |
sulle mie tenebre incestuose-osé |
ed il futuro stava fuori |
dalla new wave da liceale |
così speravo di ammalarmi |
o perlomeno che si infettassero i bar |
Novembre mio facevi freddo |
la fronte frigo il polso a zero |
sporcare specchi era narcosi |
«potrei scambiare i miei 'Le Ore' con te ?» |
Tremavo un po' di doglie blu |
e di esistenza inutile |
vibravo di vertigine |
di lecca-lecca e zuccheri |
Vespe d’agosto in caldo sciame |
per provinciali bagni al fiume |
mi pettinavo un po' all’indietro |
superficiali ricreative pietà |
Sabato sera dentro un buco |
e disco-gomma-americana |
leccavo caramelle amare |
e primavere già sfiorite con te |
E già ti odiavo dal profondo |
avevo piombo da sparare |
se stereofonico posavo |
d’imbarazzante giovinezza lamé |
E fantascienza ed erezioni |
che mi sfioravano le dita |
tasche sfondate e pugni chiusi |
«avrei bisogno di scopare con te» |
Tremavo un po' di doglie blu |
e di esistenza inutile |
vibravo di vertigine |
di lecca-lecca e zuccheri |
(translation) |
September often waiting for you |
and skinny days all the same |
I smoked twenty cigarettes |
and lumps in the throat and dry thirst for you |
your postcards-condolences |
"Hello bastard see you" |
the adolescence you sent |
on my incestuous-risque darkness |
and the future was out |
from high school new wave |
so I was hoping to get sick |
or at least that the bars become infected |
My November you were cold |
the fridge front the pulse at zero |
smudging mirrors was narcosis |
"Could I exchange my 'The Hours' with you?" |
I was shaking a little in blue pains |
and useless existence |
I was vibrating with vertigo |
of lollipops and sugars |
August wasps in a warm swarm |
for provincial river baths |
I was combing my hair a little back |
superficial recreational pity |
Saturday night inside a hole |
and disc-rubber-American |
licked bitter candy |
and springs already faded with you |
And I already hated you from deep inside |
I had lead to shoot |
if stereophonic I posed |
of embarrassing lamé youth |
And science fiction and erections |
that brushed my fingers |
smashed pockets and closed fists |
"I need to fuck with you" |
I was shaking a little in blue pains |
and useless existence |
I was vibrating with vertigo |
of lollipops and sugars |