Bartali

It will be nice a beautiful bouquet of roses
And also the noise made by the cellophane
But a beer is more tempting
On this sticky rubbery day

I'm sitting on top of a guardrail
And I'm thinking about my own business
Between one motorcycle and another there's a silence
That I wouldn't know how to describe

Oh, how much road in my sandals
How much Bartali must have done
That sad nose like a climb
Those cheerful eyes of an Italian on a trip

And the French respect us
Their heads are still spinning
And you tell me: We should go to the movies
And go to the movies, you go

It's all a complex of things
That makes me stop here
Women are sometimes grumpy
Or maybe they need to pee

And this day sets in orange
And swells with memories you don't know
I like to stay here on the big road
Dusty, if you want to go, go

And go, I'm here waiting for Bartali
Stomping on my sandals
From that curve will appear
That sad nose of a cheerful Italian

Among the angry French
And the newspapers fluttering
There's a bit of wind, the countryside barks
And there's a moon at the end of the blue

Among the angry French
And the newspapers fluttering
And you tell me: We should go to the movies
And go to the movies, you go