Songs are not written
but they are born by themselves
they represent the things that happen
everyday around us
songs, it's enough to catch them
there is one also for you
that have also difficulty in living
and you never smile.
songs are gipsy and steal poetry
they are deceptions like
the so called "happiness pills"
songs never cure love or illness
but that little pain that give us
the certainty we exist
it will pass, it will pass
if a boy and a guitar are there
like you, in the city
looking at this life which does not work
that kills us with illusions
and with the age of songs
it will pass over us
we'll go to the bank sooner or later
with our "why" and "who knows"
and the anxiety of an extreme poverty
talking about the lovers you don't have
singing a song that you don't know
because you lost it inside
and you remember only
it will pass...
in a world of cars and high speed
for the ones who arrive always last
for the ones who say good bye
for the ones who bump against
the obstacles of diversity
songs are fireflies that sing in the dark
it will pass sooner or later
this little pain inside of you
inside of me, inside of us
that make us feel like sailors
at the mercy of wind and nostalgia
singing a song that you don't know
but that little pain
be it hate or be it love
it will pass, pass, pass
even if you'll sing just "la la la"
it will pass, it will pass
and a song will be useful for something
if your little pain
be it hate or be it love ...will pass