(Caparezza-Joan of Arc)
I am a woman and I'm a saint,
I'm a saint woman and that's that,
I was a winning caste before
the caste was winning.
From France, France I defend, if you attack with the spear I slice you through,
draw the sword from the leather, dust I swallow but not giving up, the British for months have wanted my head in a slipknot, ohio!
I am an angel, but with them I'll turn into a vulture, ohio!
I win a war against England is not that he went cohio, cohio! (?)
'Cause do I hear voices that are not rumors, ohio!
(Whispers)
Go to hell satan, a bed of flames is your mattress!
Your word is not worth more, light up the fire put out yourself! ("put out" here is meant as "die")
(Chorus)
You burn me for what I preach, it's an end that I do not deserve,
you send to ashes the truth because I'm your heretic dream
I'm your heretic dream
I'm your heretic dream
I'm your heretic dream, admit it I'm your heretic dream
(Caparezza-Savonarola)
But I am Dominican but do not ask my name,
here is not sure that I won't get it through, I do not focus like the Canon, (Here there's a smart play on words, in italian "focus" is said the same way as "put on fire")
I hate the mighty of the city, I hate His Holiness, a man borne of greed
selling titles like daddy.
The trafficking of children as a geishas is spreading all over the clergy but nobody talks about it,
and millequattro (1400 d.C) is not Annozer and now I hang, set (on fire) like a New Year Bengal, all that's left of me is a handful of ashes to be thrown into the Arno!
(Whispers)
Lit up bonfires there, you burnt Beelzebub's books, but it was better to put on the coals of the barbecue!
(Chorus)
You burn me for what I preach, it's an end that I do not deserve,
you send to ashes the truth because I'm your heretic dream
I'm your heretic dream
I'm your heretic dream
I'm your heretic dream, admit it I'm your heretic dream
(Caparezza-Giordano Bruno)
In the end, I'm named like the river that baptized him in the name of which I was placed in a dark place, not furnished with feng shui.
In the cell, outcast because between faith and intellect, I chose the latter,
God gave me a brain, if I don't use it I'd disrespect Him,
and all collapses like the stocks as the speech is in the grip, my skin feels parched, the process of farce.
Now I have to shut my mouth into the disenchantment out there,
let me live instead of making me a statue in Campo de 'Fiori.
(Chorus)
You burn me for what I preach, it's an end that I do not deserve,
you send to ashes the truth because I'm your heretic dream
I'm your heretic dream
I'm your heretic dream
I'm your heretic dream, admit it I'm your heretic dream