My father had a common dream
That he shared with his generation
The jaw talked to the courtyard
Too many dead betrayed him
All people who had understood
And the child is playing in the courtyard
Throwing pebbles into the sky and the sea
Every time he hits a star
He closes his eyes and starts dreaming
He closes his eyes and starts flying
And the horses have died of boredom in Salò
When you play with black you always lose
Mussolini even wrote poems
Poets, such strange creatures
Every time they speak it's a sham
But my father is a calm boy
He reads several newspapers in the mornings
He's convinced he has ideals
And his son is a pirate vessel
And his son is a pirate vessel
Even now there is still some black writing
On the wall in front of my house
It says that the movement will prevail
The great leader is looking serene
His tie in tint with his shirt
But the child stopped playing in the courtyard
He's grown tired of following kites
He sat down between close memories and faraway noises
He looks at the wall and he looks at his hands
He looks at the wall and he looks at his hands
He looks at the wall and he looks at his hands