| My heart is flying and you feel light
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| I've hit life hard and I've been doing it my whole life
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| I never feel suitable, these indifferent contexts
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| I laugh, I look at my flaws as if they were perfect
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| If I had my father's eyes I would try to reason
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| But I was born with the desire to overdo it and with the need to fly
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| You said: "Close your eyes, don't think about it"
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| But people like me close their eyes only to walk away
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| Get away from what, which is always the same story here
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| You get the urge to change and change who is no longer there now
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| I remember nights in a parking lot, empty beers on the dashboard
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| We talked, yes, but without ever having paid a bill
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| We are the ones with no excuses, with the past on fire
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| Those who talk to everyone, but it's nothing important
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| That beautiful things are inside and deserve stars
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| We are all Giusy, it only changes in which skin
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| I could sing for a hundred years, and I'd say the same things
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| And it's not monotony, it's my personal refuge
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| Don't ask me anything, it's fine tonight
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| Bring some of your memories, and then mix them together
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| I would like to talk about her too, but without exaggerating
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| That the sky there is watching us and we ants feeding on a dog world
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| Then you just need two blue eyes and everything returns
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| Return the heart, to its place where there is warmth
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| I wanted to sing but only what I had inside
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| I feel that the more I feel empty, the more I fill up inside
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| I remember there on the terrace, fifth floor, above everyone
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| Spending nights in rooms where you don't see everyone well
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| And with your hand, and with your hand, and with your hand you move the smoke, which you burn
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| eyes
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| Feeling last but smiling that it has passed today as well
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| Mum, mum, mum, I have disappointed you so many times and it is not victimization
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| I saw you cry and I curse the day you never saw me again
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| When you came back from work and there was that silence
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| And the professors who yelled at you: "His son is rotten inside"
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| But what do they know, what does everyone know
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| I lived my life only through my tastes
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| And I'll pay a bill in ten years, or maybe tomorrow too
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| But whoever wakes up, lives, dies and hopes, always in his hands, wins |