Lo zio fantastico - Edoardo Bennato

Quasi ogni domenica, una ragazza nuova

ad ogni primo incontro, la stessa

passeggiata

lui lo zio fantastico, l’auto non l’aveva

ma un amico fisso che lo accompagnava

Folle nei teatri, variet e rivista

le soubrettes e i comici, pubblico entusiasta

la ribalta splendida come una vetrina

e lo zio fantastico, sempre in prima fila…

E poi arriv la guerra…

che tutti i sogni porta via

la guerra in ogni lettera, in ogni fotografia

E poi arriv la guerra, che tutti i sogni porta via

la guerra quella vera quella senza ironia…

Signorine pallide, storie di anni trenta

e lo zio fantastico, che ce le racconta

c’era ancora il valzer e tutti erano felici

ma lui pensava a Cuba ed ai suoi ritmi audaci…

E una sera perse, l’ultima corriera

ogni due chilometri, una lampadina

tutto quello scuro, non lo spaventava

mentre camminava, pensava al suo futuro…

E poi arriv la guerra… che tutti i sogni porta via

la guerra in ogni lettera, in ogni fotografia

E poi arriv la guerra, sempre diversa, sempre uguale

la guerra dove tutto un po' pi grigio, anche il mare

E poi arriv la guerra, che tutti i sogni porta via

la guerra quella vera quella senza ironia

La guerra vera, la guerra finta

la guerra che lo zio fantastico non la

racconta

La guerra finta, la guerra vera

la guerra che lo zio fantastico chiss dov’era

La guerra vera, la guerra finta

la guerra che alla fine non si sa mai che l’ha vinta!

La guerra finta, la guerra vera

la guerra che lo zio fantastico chiss dov’era

Almost every Sunday, a new girl

at every first meeting, the same

stroll

he was the fantastic uncle, he didn't have a car

but a steady friend who accompanied him

Crowds in theaters, variety and magazine

the soubrettes and the comedians, an enthusiastic audience

the limelight as splendid as a shop window

and the fantastic uncle, always in the front row ...

And then the war came ...

that all dreams take away

the war in every letter, in every photograph

And then came the war, which all dreams take away

the real war the one without irony ...

Pale ladies, stories from the thirties

and the fantastic uncle, who tells us about them

there was still the waltz and everyone was happy

but he was thinking of Cuba and her daring rhythms ...

And one evening he missed, the last bus

every two kilometers, a light bulb

all that dark didn't scare him

as he walked, he thought about his he future of him ...

And then came the war ... that all dreams take away

the war in every letter, in every photograph

And then came the war, always different, always the same

the war where everything is a little grayer, even the sea

And then came the war, which all dreams take away

the real war the one without irony

The real war, the fake war

the war that the fantastic uncle is not there

tells

The fake war, the real war

the war that the fantastic uncle who knows where he was

The real war, the fake war

the war that in the end you never know that he has won it!

The fake war, the real war

the war that the fantastic uncle who knows where he was