You see them walking slowly,
they seem many puppies:
bigots, bigots.
The confusion they've got inside is so much
that they confuse love and holy water:
bigots, bigots.
If I was the Devil, for heaven's sake,
I think I'd ask to get castrated.
If I was God, hearing them pray
I'd lose faith, who knows
because of bigots.
They always walk
without watching out,
altar to altar:
bigots, bigots.
And ci ci ci and cià cià cià,
ears start ringing,
it's because of bigots, bigots.
Black dressed like the curate
who is too kind with the creatures,
they look down,
as if the Lord was sleeping
on their bigots' footwear.
Where are you going on Saturday night,
in the ballrooms workers,
not bigots.
Bigots never go
out in the city,
because of virginity,
bigots, bigots
They only go out during vespers,
to them Masses
are never enough.
Glad to have
so well preserved,
the diamond they have
in their bigots' buttocks.
But someday they die,
slowly,
little fire in the little lung,
bigots, bigots.
They get "cemeteried" slowly,
in the cold dawn of a nice morning,
bigots, bigots.
And up in the sky that doesn't exist,
angels invent parties for them,
and with a couple of broken little wings
they let them fly away, away, away, away, away
since they were broken by bigots.