Bastavano Le Briciole - Marracash

Quando rubarono il camion a mio padre ci rimasi male

Ce l’ho impresso, non l’avevo mai visto depresso

Stavamo in centro, casa di ringhiera, piena di immigrati

Senza i sanitari, uscivo per andare al cesso

Per un po' restò disoccupato

Stava al bar sotto casa coi Campari a tenersi occupato

Faceva briscole coi paesani

Con gli occhi rossi per il fumo e gli amari

Io ero alle elementari

Ed ero in classe coi bimbi fortunati

Coi dindi nei salvadanai e i genitori educati

E io, fra', stavo coi figli d’immigrati, coi figli di operai

Mi vergognavo, i miei erano ignoranti

Mi vergognavo del dialetto

E mi prendevo con gli altri al parchetto

Se le prendevo, lui mi dava il resto

A darmele era sempre mia madre

Io fingevo, ma in realtà, a quell’età, ormai già non mi faceva male

Thermos di caffè, sei valigie in tre

So che non potrò scordarlo mai

Bastavano le briciole

(Andavo giù in Sicilia in uno diesel)

Bastavano le briciole

(Andavo giù in Sicilia in uno diesel)

Oh, qualche estate fa, salutavo i fra'

E da giugno a settembre ero lì

Bastavano le briciole

(Andavo giù in Sicilia in uno diesel)

Bastavano le briciole

(Andavo giù in Sicilia in uno diesel)

Nessuno pagava un cazzo nel mio palazzo, e ci arrivò lo sfratto

E su mia madre ebbe un brutto impatto

Era venuta a Milano sognando una casa privata

E ora stava alla Barona, dietro una risaia

E io diventai grande in un lampo

Perché alle medie volavano sedie

E le bestemmie coi pugni sul banco

E ognuno si prendeva ciò che non aveva

L’aria tesa per due sguardi

Il pretesto, la scusa: «c'hai moneta?»

No, e poi facevi a pugni

Scappare è da conigli

Le sigarette, biciclette, motorini

Poi la sera coi più grandi ascoltavamo le imprese dei miti

E imparavamo ad odiare gli sbirri

E nel quartiere non hai niente, ma hai i veri amici

Non possedere ti rallenta, ma puoi riuscirci

Ed ogni anno andavo sempre in ferie giù in Sicilia

In uno diesel, solo allora rivedevo mio padre felice

Thermos di caffè, sei valigie in tre

So che non potrò scordarlo mai

Bastavano le briciole

(Andavo giù in Sicilia in uno diesel)

Bastavano le briciole

(Andavo giù in Sicilia in uno diesel)

Oh, qualche estate fa, salutavo i fra'

E da giugno a settembre ero lì

Bastavano le briciole

(Andavo giù in Sicilia in uno diesel)

Bastavano le briciole

(Andavo giù in Sicilia in uno diesel)

Erano gli anni '90, Milano era un’altra

Lì ho capito già che i miei non ce l’avevano fatta

E la scuola era una pacchia, iscritto all’ITIS

Eravamo veri animali, veri esauriti

Ed un paio d’anni ce li persi lo stesso, cazzate in strada

Appresso ad altri quattro scappati di casa

Scappati non si intende letteralmente

A casa non mi è mai mancato né l’affetto né niente

Se dai poveri ho imparato a fare i contanti

Dai ricchi, poi, a reinvestirli e farne altri

E dai poveri a parlare come mangi

Ma è dai ricchi che ho imparato a scegliere i ristoranti

Ed io e i miei non siamo mai stati uguali

Chissà com'è che pensavo che non aveste niente da insegnarmi

Sono cresciuto senza mai accontentarmi

Chissà com'è che ora non trovo il modo per ringraziarvi

Thermos di caffè, sei valigie in tre

So che non potrò scordarlo mai

Bastavano le briciole

(Andavo giù in Sicilia in uno diesel)

Bastavano le briciole

(Andavo giù in Sicilia in uno diesel)

Oh, qualche estate fa, salutavo i fra'

E da giugno a settembre ero lì

Bastavano le briciole

(Andavo giù in Sicilia in uno diesel)

Bastavano le briciole

(Andavo giù in Sicilia in uno diesel)

When my father's truck was stolen, I was upset

I imprinted it on it, I had never seen him depressed

We were in the center, a railing house, full of immigrants

Without the toilets, I would go out to go to the toilet

For a while he was unemployed

He was at the bar downstairs with the Campari to keep himself busy

He made trumps with the villagers

With red eyes from smoke and bitters

I was in elementary school

And I was in class with the lucky kids

With dindi in piggy banks and educated parents

And I, brother, was with the children of immigrants, with the children of workers

I was ashamed, mine were ignorant

I was ashamed of the dialect

And I took myself to the park with the others

If I took them, he gave me the change

It was always my mother who gave them to me

I pretended, but in reality, at that age, it already didn't hurt me

Thermos of coffee, six suitcases in three

I know I can never forget it

The crumbs were enough

(I was going down to Sicily in a diesel)

The crumbs were enough

(I was going down to Sicily in a diesel)

Oh, a few summers ago, I used to say goodbye to the brothers

And from June to September I was there

The crumbs were enough

(I was going down to Sicily in a diesel)

The crumbs were enough

(I was going down to Sicily in a diesel)

Nobody paid a shit in my building, and we got the eviction

And it had a bad impact on my mother

She had come to Milan dreaming of a private home

And she was now in the Barona, behind a rice paddy

And I became big in a flash

Because in junior high chairs flew

And the cursing with fists on the counter

And everyone took what he didn't have

The tense air for two glances

The pretext, the excuse: "Do you have money?"

No, and then you were fighting

Running away is for rabbits

Cigarettes, bicycles, mopeds

Then in the evening with the older ones we listened to the exploits of the myths

And we learned to hate cops

And you have nothing in the neighborhood, but you have real friends

Not owning slows you down, but you can do it

And every year I always went on vacation down to Sicily

In a diesel, only then did I see my happy father again

Thermos of coffee, six suitcases in three

I know I can never forget it

The crumbs were enough

(I was going down to Sicily in a diesel)

The crumbs were enough

(I was going down to Sicily in a diesel)

Oh, a few summers ago, I used to say goodbye to the brothers

And from June to September I was there

The crumbs were enough

(I was going down to Sicily in a diesel)

The crumbs were enough

(I was going down to Sicily in a diesel)

It was the 90s, Milan was another

There I already realized that my parents hadn't made it

And the school was a godsend, enrolled in the ITIS

We were real animals, real exhausted

And a couple of years I lost them anyway, bullshit in the street

Attached to four other runaways

Run away is not meant literally

At home I have never lacked affection or anything

If I learned from the poor to make cash

From the rich, then, to reinvest them and make others

And from the poor to talk as you eat

But it is from the rich that I learned to choose restaurants

And my parents and I have never been the same

Who knows how I thought you had nothing to teach me

I grew up never satisfied

Who knows how now I can't find a way to thank you

Thermos of coffee, six suitcases in three

I know I can never forget it

The crumbs were enough

(I was going down to Sicily in a diesel)

The crumbs were enough

(I was going down to Sicily in a diesel)

Oh, a few summers ago, I used to say goodbye to the brothers

And from June to September I was there

The crumbs were enough

(I was going down to Sicily in a diesel)

The crumbs were enough

(I was going down to Sicily in a diesel)