Il Monolocale

Every day I buy the paper
Not just for movies and sports
But also to look for a studio
Even if it’s lacking all the comforts
Because I want to take you to a home
And into a real bed with me

It makes me want to cry: For Sale
And so many millions for a down payment
Just For Sale, For Sale
It seems almost impossible

I haven’t told you yet that my uncle
Isn’t lending out the apartment anymore
He’s embarrassed by the building manager
I can’t exactly give him a black eye
I feel so bad, love without a home
I especially feel bad, you know, for you

Damn uncle
Cheap, ungrateful, and hypocritical
Everything’s for sale, for sale
Not even a hole for rent

You’re so sweet, but it’s an insult to me
To take advantage of your place
Having to send your mom to do the shopping
Just to hug you a bit and feel you mine
I wish I could hug you always, dear love
Stay a long time just alone with you

It makes me want to cry: For Sale
It seems almost impossible
Unfortunately For Sale, For Sale
A dream that’s really so simple
For Sale, For Sale
It seems almost impossible
Unfortunately For Sale, For Sale
A dream that’s really so simple

A bunch of flowers, the curtains and colors
A white couch, me sitting with you
The morning sun, in bed close to you
And after love, we drink some coffee

A bunch of flowers, the curtains and colors
A white couch, me sitting with you
The morning sun, in bed close to you
And after love, we drink some coffee
A bunch of flowers, the curtains and colors
A white couch, me sitting with you
The morning sun, in bed close to you
And after love, we drink some coffee