Lyrics of Paradise - Massage Tribe, Academia de Música con Sonidos de la Naturaleza, Academia de Música para Massagem e Relaxamento

Paradise (original)

Son morti e dai vermi ricoperti
Son morti e dai vermi ricoperti
Son morti e dai vermi ricoperti
It’s paradise
Son morti i furbi e gli stronzi
Son morti i buoni ed i colti
Son morti ormai tutti quanti
It’s paradise
C’era un bambino al camposanto
Che chiede ai genitori, stanco
Dov'è che li hanno seppelliti quelli cattivi
Leggendo tutti gli epitaffi
Sembravan tutti dei santi
Ma lui, al mondo da poco, aveva capito tutto
Che son morti i furbi e gli stronzi
Che son morti i buoni ed i colti
Che son morti ormai tutti quanti
It’s paradise
Son morti e dai vermi ricoperti
Son morti e dai vermi ricoperti
Son morti e dai vermi ricoperti
It’s paradise
Il bambino, tornando da scuola
Si chiede com'è che funziona
Questa morte, che hanno paura tutti i grandi
A farne le conseguenze
Della scoperta eccitante
Sarà un grillo che canta
Ora non canta più
Son morte le bestie e le piante
Son morte le bestie e le piante
Son morte ormai tutte quante
It’s paradise
Son morte e da macchine schiacciate
Son morte e dagli uomini mangiate
Son morte, dal freddo ricoperte
It’s paradise

(translation)

They are dead and covered with worms
They are dead and covered with worms
They are dead and covered with worms
It's paradise
The crafty ones and the assholes are dead
The good and the educated are dead
They are all dead now
It's paradise
There was a child in the cemetery
Asking parents, tired
Where did the bad ones buried them?
Reading all the epitaphs
They all looked like saints
But he, in the world recently, had understood everything
That the crafty ones and the assholes are dead
That the good and the educated are dead
Who are all dead now
It's paradise
They are dead and covered with worms
They are dead and covered with worms
They are dead and covered with worms
It's paradise
The child returning from school
He wonders how it works
This death, which all the great are afraid of
To make the consequences
Of the exciting discovery
It will be a cricket that sings
Now he doesn't sing anymore
The beasts and the plants are dead
The beasts and the plants are dead
They are all dead now
It's paradise
They are dead and crushed by machines
They are dead and eaten by men
They are dead, covered with cold
It's paradise