"Fourth staircase!"
"Thanks, I know."
"It's been empty since September though."
"I know this too, thank you, don't say anything friend,
You've already seen me, you know. "
You left in dark corners
A few useless objects of yours
The empty bottle of resin wine
We bought on the road.
There is not much of your time left with me
Like a book read quickly, I lost track of you
Maybe the right way or maybe something more
There is not much left to regret anymore.
Quick and strange days
Speaking in English
And those trips we took together
Borders at dawn,
A taste of wind
And the sun on our backs.
We pretended to have
Not even a lira
To live more
This house recently
Was part of the game
That one day tired you.
I read your message here on the wall, and it's still there
Written in Italian: don't look for me anymore!
Desolate, useless irony, which hurt me
My stuff in order on the bed, all there.
I wasn't wrong, that's right,
Staying here doesn't tell me anything
There is just no air of dear memories
That would let me need you.
I will not open the window
With the light I won't find out
Clean spaces against the walls
Left behind by something that no longer exists.
There is not much of my time left with you
There is not much left to regret for me.
There is not much of my time left with you
There is not much left to regret for me.