| I want to go live in the countryside
|
| oh oh…
|
| I want that dew that soaks me
|
| uh uh…
|
| But I live in (the) city, and I can't take it anymore
|
| uh uh…
|
| In this beastly traffic
|
| Loneliness assaults you and sinks you deeper and deeper...
|
| Better change latitude...
|
| I want to go back to the mountains
|
| uh uh…
|
| I want to till the land and make firewood
|
| uh uh…
|
| And I'm still in the city, in this crowd
|
| unable to communicate
|
| And without being able to breathe, the sky here is never blue
|
| (and I don't have fun anymore)
|
| In my town you dance, you dance, you dance
|
| On this somewhat hectic night of a full moon…
|
| In my town there is a party, what a party, what a party
|
| Everyone in the square, leaning out the window
|
| It's still like a dream, memories of youth...
|
| I who was born in the countryside
|
| uh uh…
|
| I remember grandfather Silvio and the grape harvest, Ah, ah...
|
| And I live in the city, where you were born
|
| Where the fog is general
|
| And the confusion assails you and sinks you a little more...
|
| (and I don't have fun anymore)
|
| In my town you dance, you dance, you dance
|
| On this somewhat hectic night of a full moon…
|
| In my town there is a party, what a party, what a party
|
| Everyone in the square, looking out the window...
|
| Memories of my town
|
| The church, the houses, and the teacher always cultivating her roses...
|
| Memories of my town
|
| The old bus that started slow, puffing every afternoon
|
| It's still like a dream, memories of youth...
|
| And in my town you dance, you dance, you dance
|
| On this somewhat hectic night of a full moon…
|
| Memories of my town
|
| Good people who breathe love
|
| And that pond that when I was a child looked like the sea...
|
| And in my town there was a party, what a party, a good party
|
| You always live like at a party
|
| Memories of my town
|
| The jokes, the postman, and the fear of the poor Civil Guards...
|
| They are like a dream still... |