Testamento di un buffone - Talco

Favole affrante e vuote di malinconia

Nebbia che affonda giorni e solidarietà

Ci dicon son precarie nuvole e utopia

Ma là nella metropoli sprofonda la realtà

Senza filtri nelle strade passeggia il buffone

Salta sopra i cocci di un’ormai sorda città

Non c'è spazio per compianto né moderazione

A chi ha straziato i suoi valori per cieca tranquillità

Non correte, non scappate via

Un giorno non può vivere senza la sua utopia

Non correte, non scappate via

Nel nulla del benessere svendete la vostra viltà

Tra voli disperati di fantasmi e falsi giorni

Non correte non scappate via

Svegliatevi pagliacci prima o poi

Come farete senza sogni

Certo un buffone non sarà di compagnia

Al vegliardo che coi sogni non sa più parlar

Per chi la carovana è ormai sfuggita via

Il prezzo dell’orgoglio è nell’errore sprofondar

Ma nelle poltrone armate di menefreghismo

Striscia un canto vuoto d’idee senza identità

Dicon «Non sarà poi male un po' di opportunismo»

Grazie ma declino ho troppo a cuore la mia integrità

Signori spettatori

Un altro treno è ripartito

Io vi lascio il testamento di un amore che la sua vita ha inseguito

Col sorriso ripartirò con voi

Avanti avvicinatevi e nel cuore nessuno si vergogni

Guardate guardate su non scappate via

Qui c'è un buffone armato di poesia che danza ancora coi suoi sogni

:ENGLISH TEXT:

TESTAMENT OF A CLOWN

Among broken tales, melancholy and void

The fog submerges days and solidarity

They tell us clouds and utopia are precarious

But in the cities reality is sinking

Unbound the clown takes to the streets

He leaps on the rubble of a deafened city

There’s no room for grief or moderation

For those who have done away with their values for a blind tranquillity

Don’t run, don’t flee

A day cannot live without utopia

Don’t run, don’t flee

In the mud of opulence you sell vileness

Among the desperate leap of ghosts and false days

Don’t run, don’t flee

You better wake up you clowns sooner or later

What will you do without any dreams?

No doubt a clown will be of little company

For a geezer who know not how to speak through dreams

For those for whom the caravan has already gone

The price of pride lies in the error of sinking

But on the armchairs armed with indifference

An empty song crawls, devoid of ideas and identity

They say: «A little opportunism will do little harm»

Thanks but no thanks, I hold my integrity too dear

Ladies and gentlemen

Another train has left

I leave you the testament of a love followed by a dream

Smiling I will leave again with you

Draw near and let no one be ashamed

Look!

Look and don’t flee

Here’s a clown armed with poetry who still dances with his dreams

Fables broken and empty of melancholy

Fog sinking days and solidarity

They tell us they are precarious clouds and utopia

But there in the metropolis reality sinks

Unfiltered in the streets the fool walks

Jump over the shards of a now deaf city

There is no room for regret or restraint

To those who have torn their values ​​out of blind tranquility

Don't run, don't run away

One day he cannot live without his utopia

Don't run, don't run away

In the void of well-being, sell off your cowardice

Between desperate flights of ghosts and false days

Don't run, don't run away

Wake up clowns sooner or later

How will you do without dreams

Certainly a fool will not be of company

To the old man who no longer knows how to speak with dreams

For whom the caravan has now run away

The price of pride is in the error to sink

But in armchairs armed with indifference

Streak an empty song of ideas without identity

Dicon "A little opportunism won't be bad after all"

Thanks but I decline, I care too much about my integrity

Spectators

Another train has left

I leave you the testament of a love that his life has chased him

With a smile I will leave with you

Come closer and in the heart no one is ashamed

Look look up don't run away

Here is a clown armed with poetry still dancing with his dreams

: ENGLISH TEXT:

TESTAMENT OF A CLOWN

Among broken tales, melancholy and void

The fog submerges days and solidarity

They tell us clouds and utopia are precarious

But in the cities reality is sinking

Unbound the clown takes to the streets

He leaps on the rubble of a deafened city

There’s no room for grief or moderation

For those who have done away with their values ​​for a blind tranquility

Don't run, don't flee

A day cannot live without utopia

Don't run, don't flee

In the mud of opulence you sell vileness

Among the desperate leap of ghosts and false days

Don't run, don't flee

You better wake up you clowns sooner or later

What will you do without any dreams?

No doubt a clown will be of little company

For a geezer who know not how to speak through dreams

For those for whom the caravan has already gone

The price of pride lies in the error of sinking

But on the armchairs armed with indifference

An empty song crawls, devoid of ideas and identity

They say: "A little opportunism will do little harm"

Thanks but no thanks, I hold my integrity too dear

Ladies and gentlemen

Another train has left

I leave you the testament of a love followed by a dream

Smiling I will leave again with you

Draw near and let no one be ashamed

Look!

Look and don't flee

Here’s a clown armed with poetry who still dances with his dreams