The women of Modena have big bones
the women of Modena have wide hips
the women of Modena accept an invitation
and there is no need to be the husband
The women of Genova wear tight skirts
The women of Genova don't laugh at all
The women of Genova think it's normal
to go to bed and read the newspaper
But all of them they make food, they know how to cook, they hate ironing and they know how to make love
They make food, they know how to cook, they hate ironing and they know how to make love
And I, who am an evil spirit, I move at night with the instinct of a lifeguard
Hey, let me know if you're in it or not
The women of Padova look behind the glass
The women of Padova never have secrets
It is not a cliché that the women of Padua
hide feathers under the dress
The women of Napoli are all mothers
The women of Napoli throw themselves into the flames
The women of Naples, God, but what a beautiful invention
they manage to laugh even under the flood.
And they too they make food, they know how to cook, they hate ironing and they know how to make love
They make food, they know how to cook, they hate ironing and they know how to make love
And I, who am an evil spirit, I move at night with the instinct of a vampire
Hey, let me know if you're in it or not
The women of Modena have big bones
the women of Genova laugh halfheartedly
the women of Napoli, God, what a beautiful invention
the women I've had are an illusion. Indeed...
I make food, I don't know how to cook, I hate to embroider, but I know how to make love
I make food, I hate to embroider,
I also make love but, by now, it is a detail