Radio Baccano [English translation]

You're right, in prison.

You never believe in true things.

Because even the contrary is true.

Days of alarm and confusion

are my daily bread.

Little women, kids grow up.

Toys were never enough to you

not even the punches you gave them.

Under a breathless moon

I'm going to write on the walls

"God exists, with all his names".

Holy scriptures of information

The war of the noise breaks out

and we'll make a lot of row.

You with you guitar in your hand

for a rebel idol

who flows on our skin.

You're right, in prison.

And the solidarity is good

such as loneliness on trams.

Between money, tears and tar

I enjoy this infamous world.

And we'll make a lot of row.

You with you guitar in your hand

for a rebel idol

who flows on our skin.

You're right.

"Row-Radio", Christian world

Hindu, Buddhist, Jew, Muslim.

End of the world, time signal.

Soundtrack of this scenario

of war, a distorted sound, a pissed scream

from those who are not dead, but lives and moves

between palaces, along with other

hundred, thousand boys.

"Row-Radio" like an earthquake,

anything or anyone asks for your vote.

No more leaders to lead the masses.

Hard music which drills the pierces the speakers.

Turning world, "Row-Radio".

Sound that warms you when it's cold.

Cages are hidden into appearances.

The freedom is inside the stomach.

And we'll make a lot of row.

You with you guitar in your hand.

New idols of love.

We'll make a fuss.

"Row-Radio", Christian world

Hindu, Buddhist, Jew, Muslim.

End of the world, spread the word

inside the mind, out of school.

"Row-Radio"

protect me from what I want

protect me from what I want,

you damn of a holy Christ.