Ho visto che finora manca la versione inglese sul sito
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There's a man who's talking to himself
under the shadow of a magnolia,
he says he's led a smuggler's life
and that the stars know his historia.
There's a man who's talking to himself
and he's a soldier without memory
a Longobard a Feddayin,
it doesn't make a lot of difference
Dear Holy Lady
we're here our bums against the wall
a lizard's hope upon our minds
and a heart we bought at Lenno market
Dear Holy Lady
with ever colour changing eyes
we're here at the bottom of the bottle
like the worms in the mezcal
There's a man who's talking to himself
with medication in his pocket,
he says he won't go back to his place
he's got the martians in his loo.
Thinks squealing's something he won't do,
but ends up singing all his story,
a scarab tied around his neck, and
and the Holy Lady of Rescue
Dear Holy Lady
we're here our bums against the wall
a fear that stays and isn't hurried
and who has learned to drink its tea
Dear Holy lady
a shining crown upon your head,
don't ever chase away our phantoms
don't know without them who we are