Far, far away, beyond Milan
beyond gasometers, beyond manometers
beyond kilometers and tram tracks
far, far away, very far away,
beyond running water and electricity,
there I want to surrender myself into the arms of music
that ends the conversation about affinities.
Strong farter, written by the devil,
in obvious defiance of civilization.
Maybe you won't love me
you'll meet me, smile at me
but you won't love me.
Maybe you won't love me
you'll listen to me, follow me
but you won't love me.
The moon, the moon of howls
leaves classicism to poets.
There I want to surrender myself into the arms of music
that ends the conversation about urbanity.
Strong farter, written by the devil,
in solemn defiance of humanity.
Maybe you won't love me
you'll talk to me, embrace me
but you won't love me.