COMING BACK IS A HABIT

Coming back is a habit
For people like you
Overwhelmed and bored by the usual routine

Will you ever confess and tell your wife 
That on Saturdays you’ve been sleeping with me 
For the past ten years through ups and downs

But I can’t ask you 
I mustn’t ask you  
You’ll answer 
If you like 
But I can’t cry 
I mustn’t cry
You’ll decide  
If you like

Coming back is a habit
For people like you
Faithful and keeping the home fires burning

How will you tell your wife 
That you have a son just like you 
With big black eyes who’s just turned three 

He’s a little boy and he can’t ask you
He mustn’t ask you
You’ll answer  
If you like
But he mustn’t cry
It’s a shame to cry
You’ll give him the answer
If you know it

But I can’t ask you
I mustn’t ask you
You’ll give him the answer
If you like
But I can’t cry 
I mustn’t cry
You’ll decide  
If you like

October was the sweetest month
Kisses and caresses beneath the lemon tree
Grapes were our favourite loot,
The harvest a sacred family tradition.

October was the best month to see sunsets 
Lighting up the sky.
Out of breath we’d rise and with the greatest of ease return to the scene 
With red cheeks and a good excuse. 

That crossroads, an impending decision to be taken
Rather than limbo I’d have chosen hell
If that were the price of freedom.

Heaven could wait after all
If that were the price of freedom
Leave everything and settle for nothing
The mere fact of simply existing was enough
Opening your eyes and letting yourself be carried away...

October, infinite candour
Our adolescence suspended from the seesawing motion of our hearts.
Flight became the only way out,
A leap in the dark, essential in the abyss of a new life

The crossroads, an impending decision to be taken 
Rather than limbo I’d have chosen hell 
If that were the price of freedom.

Heaven could wait after all
If that were the price of freedom,
Leave everything and settle for nothing
Give voice to a brand new identity
Heaven could wait after all

Wait...

Heaven could wait after all
If that were the price of freedom,
Leave everything and settle for nothing
Give voice to a brand new identity 
That paradise could wait after all
We hadn’t even started living yet…….

How can anyone believe  
That this city kissed by the sun and bathed by the sea
Will ever be able to forget 
Old grudges and open wounds 
Age-old feuds, 
mothers crying for sons they will never see again 
the state somewhat saddened 
laying a wreath with a three-coloured sash and the words ‘missing in action’. 

From behind the shutters old people and children watch 
The long, emotional funeral procession
General, was this your army?

I wonder if the good Lord knows about this hell
If he has a plan to redeem it
Peace and hope, no they don’t live here 
anymore it’s a huge desert
I wonder if the good Lord will forgive this silence 

Can anyone really believe 
That this city kissed by the sun and bathed by the sea
Will ever be able to forget 
The uncalled for abuse and all the suffering
The long-standing battles waged by those who defied organized crime to the sound of music and poetry
The stunned stares of people who have seen and heard nothing 

Airplanes fly, smoke trails intertwining 
The airport is a disgraceful eyesore with a respectable name.
 
I wonder if the good Lord knows about this hell
And if he has a plan to redeem it
Peace and hope, no they don’t live here 
anymore it’s a huge desert
I wonder if the good Lord will forgive this silence
I wonder if the good Lord will forgive this silence 
I wonder if the good Lord will forgive Palermo

That afternoon we’d move from one couch to another 
Anything we said felt cumbersome in mid August
I’d ask you to be more affectionate and show a bit of enthusiasm
While your mother made a roast in my honour 

Ah that’s how I want to live, with the sun on my face
Love was something to dream of in my grandparents’ day 

I remember the day we met as though it were yesterday 
You were a little drunk and intent on making an impression
You talked about finances and soft loans
transfers, transactions and, alas, market research

Ah that’s how I want to live, with the sun on my face
Love was something to dream of in my grandparents day 

Reigning over us was stubborn force of habit 
An imperfect harmony.
Prevailing over us was deep loneliness 
The power of inertia
hidden harmony 
 
That afternoon we moved from one couch to another
While I worked out how to tell you I was leaving you
You had already fallen asleep at the 40th minute of the Roma-Lazio match
I had to see to your mother and take the dog for a walk 

Ah that’s how I want to live, with the sun on my face
Love was something to dream about in my grandparents day 

Reigning over us was stubborn force of habit 
An imperfect harmony.
Prevailing over us was deep loneliness 
The power of inertia
perverse harmony 

Prevailing over us was deep loneliness 
The power of inertia
Imperfect harmony 

That afternoon you and the grey couch were indistinguishable 
I should have known the very first time I saw you

The lady on the fifth floor 
keeps a python in her living room,
a trusted watchman.
Her ex husband stands outside her front door  
every night 
holding a hammer
“there’s absolutely nothng to be afraid of,
to be afraid of”
is the conclusion reached by the police,
The lady on the fifth floor 
takes advantage of the chaos in the city.
She always leaves home in the morning and 
goes to work at a brisk pace.
“excuse me, have you by any chance seen my husband?
What colour suit was he wearing?
How many letters did he have in his pocket?”
“1, 2, 3 ...boom!”
The lady on the fifth floor
had a trained anti-rape python.
One fine day the beast 
escaped from its secure den 
and reached the ground floor.
Didn’t even have time 
to stop his teeth from chattering with fright 
did pepito, the concierge’s unfriendly, 
hypertensive chiwawa. 
Three months after the capture of the escaped reptile 
the owner’s mysterious disappearance was discovered.
“miss, have you by any chance seen the man with the hammer”?
What colour clothes was he wearing?
How many letters did he have in his pocket?
Miss, have you by any chance seen the man with the hammer”?
What colour clothes was he wearing?
How long was he in the area?
Did he ever speak to you?” 
The lady on the fifth floor was found walled up in the bathroom
a letter dated a year ago 
left at the police station was absolute proof

giving precise details of the burial ritual.
But there was absolutely nothing to be afraid of 
to be afraid of.
“miss, have you by any chance seen the man with the hammer”?
What colour clothes was he wearing?
How many letters did he have in his pocket?
Miss, have you by any chance seen the man with the hammer”?
What colour clothes was he wearing?
How long was he in the area?
Did he ever speak to you?”
 
Finale:
The man with the hammer was last seen in a bar in the centre of buenos aires. 
A few months after his capture, the python went back to live in its natural habitat in thailand.
The concierge decided to adopt“tiny”a big, affectionate, sweet-tempered dog.
On the fifth floor lives  mathilda, a bad-tempered woman, with an allergy to cats and relatives.

ah...and by the way...
The officers at police headquarters still keep on saying that there is absolutely nothing to worry about.

What puerile weakness 
To think I had you 
Caressing a rose cruelly cut 
Our gazes already lost and faroff  
We are desolate oceans 

However hard I try 
I don’t know  
Who you are
What you want

Careless hands 
The sensuality 
Between us is a jumble of gestures 
Hard-pressed you admit it, you’re tired of me
And you ask me what our initial 
Euforia tasted like 

Despite my efforts
I don’t know
Who you are 
What you want 

That it’s not only us you don’t care about 
but also a past that never seems to pass 
I want to know who you are
What you want from me
If you love the subtle reminder of someone 
more skillful at making others suffer 
My foolish love then that’s too much for me 

Like a pioneer searching for who knows
What boundaries of unfaithfulness 
You feel none of the normal urgency to be with me
with me alone
You can love like that if that’s how you feel
What’s your choice I’ve already made mine 

But maybe even you can’t understand  
Who you are 
What you want 

That it’s not only us you don’t care about 
but also a past that never seems to pass 
I want to know who you are
What you want from me
If you love the subtle reminder of someone 
more skillful at making others suffer 
My foolish love I’m mad about you 

When you talk
mid your silences 
then you kiss me 
everything is more bearable 

That it’s not only us you don’t care about 
but also a past that never seems to pass 
I want to know who you are
What you want what you want from me
If you love the subtle reminder of someone 
more skillful at making others suffer 
Goodbye Love and take care.

How much longer must I 
keep my head above water
My husband has been out of work for a while
And along with his smile he’s said goodbye to his health and dignity.

How much longer must I  
ask my children to grit their teeth 
What with bread, school books, the mortgage, energy bills
I can already see another swelteringly hot summer in the city.

But Spring will return 
to our poor, aged, deprived hearts and warm them.

And maybe one day they’ll give us air 
At a better price than petrol 
A tear of true patience 
At the lottery this year the prize is a shopping voucher

How much longer must I 
Carry the weight of this shame
We’ve all been sleeping in the car for a month
We’ve become strangers in the eyes of the community 

But Spring will return 
to our poor, saddened, sick hearts and cure them.

And maybe one day they’ll give us air 
At a better price than aspirin 
A justifiable dose of sheer hope 
At the lottery this year the prize is a lifelong pension

That gracious fine beneath the windshield wipers 
Is proof that someone still cares 
What a lovely surprise between frost and fog 
How warm the embrace of Providence.

And maybe one day they’ll give us air 
At a better price than waste 

And maybe one day they’ll give us air
At a better price than waste 

How much longer must I 
Ask my children to grit their teeth

Saint Valentine 
Impatient Spring rushes in to catch us by surprise.
The sun is high in the sky and it’s Sunday
Wake up

Even fear is sometimes a romantic expression 
A prelude to nostalgia
And you ask yourself if this is true love 
Or just sheer madness 

But the universe will invent 
cosmic melodies for us
a soothing dawn and new orbits 
come hold me tighter 
and the universe will light up   
with a heavenly choreography  
Believe me ...

Down the streets chaotic beauty 
Beckons us
The sea is clothed with smiling transparency 
Wake me

Even reason is sometimes a romantic expression 
The anatomy of feeling 
And I wonder if your song is inspiration, talent 
or simply poetry

But the universe will invent 
cosmic melodies for us
a soothing dawn and new orbits 
come hold me tighter 
and for us the universe will invent unusual seasons
intoxicating perfumes and fairytales...

For us the universe will invent
A heavenly choreography 
You can believe it
You can believe it 

It was almost dawn when we caught sight of that ramshackle boat
Overflowing with people flailing their arms
A cargo of tragic hope
Of tightly packed, unlabeled lives
That night our seas would wash ashore  
The rest of that composite, lifeless crew 

Who will control the media madness 
Distinguished words laced with pain,
Come on everybody there’s a new reality show broadcast worldwide
What’s the point of the umpteenth visit
By magicians and politicians, by your majesty 
And mourners-for-rent crying, posing and despairing for three euros an hour.

And despite knowing it was a criminal act
The fishermen jointly decided to extend a hand
In defiance of the bitter consequences 
Following the voice of their own conscience.
That night our seas would wash ashore  
Maps, family photos, rags and a little white shoe.

Who will control this media madness 
Distinguished words laced with pain,
Whatever you do don’t miss this new sensational show
What’s the point of the umpteenth visit
Paid out of courtesy and formal solidarity 
Roll up roll up, ladies and gentlemen, come and see the circus of horrors.

Who will control the media madness 
Distinguished words laced with pain
The Carnival parade has in store a new float full of empty promises for us

I love the summer rain 
The mood is quiet and freedom is in the air.
With you smiling and not speaking
Beating time with your hands

I love the smell of water 
On this hungry earth
With you grabbing my hands 
And taking your first steps

This little piece of magic
Is not a dream it is not 
A ruthless fabrication of fancy
And I might just be starting to think  
That happiness will embrace this life 

I love the summer rain
The countryside listening   
The voice of old ghosts 
The mountains lamenting

I love the smell of water 
On this hungry earth
With you smiling and not speaking
A warm embracing look in your eyes

This little piece of magic
Is not a dream it is not 
A ruthless fabrication of fancy
And I might just be starting to think 
That happiness will embrace this life