The Show Must Go On - Milva

Gli artisti falliti sono fuori dal gioco

Non ci sono mai stati o ci son stati per poco

E ora parlano molto quasi a chiedere scusa

Di aver perso la chiave di una porta ormai chiusa

Di un’estate lì intorno ch'è svanita in un giorno

E sembrava durasse in eterno quando han preso la scala per salire al

Successo

Ed invece sono scesi all’inferno

And the show must go on, the show must go on

Gli artisti falliti hanno un sogno proibito

Un teatro con fuori scritto «Tutto esaurito»

E una nota sospesa con un’intonazione

Che si alzi la sala e che esploda il loggione

O quant’altro ci sia per andarsene via

Con tre o quattro persone di scorta

Fra due ali di gente se non proprio per sempre

Però almeno provarlo una volta

And the show must go on, the show must go on

Avevo dentro un’anima da viverci tre vite

Ma un cuore troppo piccolo per musiche infinite

E queste dita inutili guarda dove son finite

Dai tasti del mio pianoforte a una calcolatrice

And the show must go on, the show must go on

Gli artisti falliti hanno il passo strisciato

Per vergogna d’impronte che non hanno lasciato

E una macchina fuori sempre mal posteggiata

Che non sembra davvero sia mai stata lavata

Ed un’alba slavata da mandare affanculo

Perche c'è un nuovo giorno nel pugno

E una birra ghiacciata da gelarci l’inferno

Perché loro siamo tutti o nessuno

And the show must go on, the show must go on

Failed artists are out of the game

There have never been or have been there for a short time

And now they talk a lot almost to apologize

Of having lost the key to a door that is now closed

Of a summer around there that vanished in one day

And it seemed to last forever when they took the ladder to go up to the

Success

And instead they went down to hell

And the show must go on, the show must go on

Failed artists have a forbidden dream

A theater with the words "Sold out"

And a suspended note with an intonation

Let the hall rise and the gallery explode

Or whatever else there is to go away

With three or four people as an escort

Between two wings of people if not forever

But at least try it once

And the show must go on, the show must go on

I had a soul inside to live three lives

But a heart too small for infinite music

And these useless fingers look where they have gone

From my piano keys to a calculator

And the show must go on, the show must go on

Failed artists have a crawl

Out of shame for the footprints they did not leave

And a car always badly parked outside

Which really doesn't look like it has ever been washed

And a washed-out dawn to fuck off

Because there is a new day in the fist

And an ice cold beer to freeze hell

Because they are all or none

And the show must go on, the show must go on