At eight and a quarter of a Wednesday in August
I'm finally leaving this place
After thirty years in prison at Asinara
What do you want it to be a few hours in a coffin.
That in a coffin at the bottom is not bad
Just knowing yourself and knowing how to please
And in this I, modestly, have always been a great one
Because to live I need nothing, only ...
Air ... only ... air.
I told it: "I'll fuck you all sooner or later!"
Those laughed, they thought I was joking
"No one ever goes out of here"
As if this could discourage me.
And then over time they saw me consuming little by little
I lost the pounds, I lost my teeth, I look like a rat
I gnawed all the moments of life she gave me
And I have cultivated my sweetest project shot ...
In the air ... in the air.
And the others always protest, to avenge some wrong
To me they said, suck,:"You're virtually dead!
Your mouth only serves to make you breathe "
I was thinking, "And is not this the trick - inspire, exhale,"
Inhale, exhale: this I can do
And when I'm lucky I feel the wet of the sea
I know death, and if she has not beaten me yet
It is because I, for a lifetime, live only for an hour ...
Air ... an hour of air.
Breathing slow, I expect the wind
My time will come ...
Air air air ...