A Licola - Edoardo Bennato

A Licola, sotto la canicola

Si giocava a rugby, tutti i giovedì

E al limite, di un caldo più dell’Africa

Io contavo i palpiti, del tuo cuore…

A Licola, in un folle anelito

Senza false remore, ti parlai di me

Sogni, son fallaci i sogni

Ti muovevi languida, a ritmo di beguine…

A Licola, sotto la canicola

Quella fisarmonica, chi se la scorda più

I timpani, ci rompeva i timpani

Ma si sfidava impavidi, il dolore…

A Licola, si creò un dibattito

Sul problema intrinseco, dei cani in libertà

Fu fatta, una scelta drastica

Poi si tornò alla carica, a ritmo di beguine…

A Licola, a forza di bicipiti

Si scavò una fossa, per buttarci dentro tutti

I libri di storia, le protesi, le medaglie ginniche

Però ad un certo punto arrivò l’avvocato Pastena

Che disse: che disastro!

A Licola, sotto la canicola

Un’acuta analisi della società

Poi ebbri, di passione ebbri

Contro tutti i canoni, ma a ritmo di beguine…

A Licola, sotto la canicola

Si sparava indomiti, ma con voluttà!

E infine, persi nelle tenebre

Senza un filo logico, ma a ritmo di beguine…

In Licola, under the heatwave

Rugby was played every Thursday

And at the limit, more hot than Africa

I counted the beats of your heart ...

In Licola, in a mad longing

Without false hesitation, I told you about me

Dreams, dreams are fallacious

You moved languidly, to the rhythm of beguine ...

In Licola, under the heatwave

That accordion, who forgets it anymore

The eardrums, he broke our eardrums

But he challenged himself fearlessly, the pain ...

In Licola, a debate was created

On the intrinsic problem of dogs in the wild

It was made, a drastic choice

Then we went back to the charge, to the rhythm of beguine ...

In Licola, by dint of biceps

He dug a pit, to throw us all in

The history books, the prostheses, the gymnastic medals

But at a certain point the lawyer Pastena arrived

That he said: what a disaster!

In Licola, under the heatwave

An acute analysis of the company

Then intoxicated, intoxicated with passion

Against all canons, but to the rhythm of beguine ...

In Licola, under the heatwave

He shot himself indomitable, but with pleasure!

And finally, lost in the darkness

Without a logical thread, but to the rhythm of beguine ...