Pablo - Francesco De Gregori

Mio padreseppellito un anno f,

nessuno pi coltivare la vite.

Verde rame sulle sue poche unghie

e troppi figli da cullare.

E il treno io l’ho preso e ho fatto bene.

Spago sulla mia valigia non ce n’era,

solo un p d’amore la teneva insieme,

solo un p di rancore la teneva insieme.

Il collega spagnolo non sente, non vede,

ma parla del suo gallo da battaglia e della latteria.

Diventa terra.

Prima parlava strano ed io non lo capivo,

per il pane con lui lo dividevo

e il padrone non sembrava poi cattivo.

Hanno pagato Pablo, Pablo vivo.

Con le mani posso fare castelli,

costruire autostrade, parlare con Pablo,

lui conosce le donne e tradisce la moglie.

Con le donne e il vino e la Svizzera verde.

E se un giorno caduto, caduto per caso

pensando al suo gallo o alla moglie ingrassata come da foto.

Prima parlava strano ma io non lo capivo,

per il fumo con lui lo dividevo

e il padrone non sembrava poi cattivo.

Hanno ammazzato Pablo, Pablo vivo.

My father buried a year ago,

no one grows the vine anymore.

Copper green on her few nails

and too many children to cradle.

And I took the train and I did well.

There was no string on my suitcase,

just a little bit of love held her together,

only a little bit of grudge held her together.

The Spanish colleague does not hear, does not see,

but he talks about his battle-rooster and the dairy.

Become land.

Before he spoke strange and I didn't understand him,

I shared it with him for bread

and the master didn't seem bad.

They paid Pablo, Pablo alive.

With my hands I can make castles,

build highways, talk to Pablo,

he knows women and cheats on his wife.

With women and wine and green Switzerland.

And if one day fell, fell by chance

thinking of his rooster of him or his fattened wife as shown in the photo.

Before he spoke strange but I didn't understand him,

I shared it with him for the smoke

and the master didn't seem bad.

They killed Pablo, Pablo alive.