Genova Per Noi

With that kind of face
That kind of expression
That we have before going to Genoa
We are never quite sure
That the place we're heading to
Won't swallow us and we won't return

Yet we are somewhat related
To those people over there
Who deep down are just like us, wild
But what scares us is that dark sea
That moves even at night and never stands still

Genoa for us
Who live deep in the countryside
And have the sun in the square only rarely
And the rest is rain that soaks us
Genoa, I was saying, is just an idea like any other
Ah, la la la la la la

But that kind of face
That kind of expression
That we have as we look at Genoa
And every time we smell it
And move cautiously
We feel a bit like strays

Macaia, monkey of light and madness
Mist, fish, Africa, sleep, nausea, fantasy...
And meanwhile, in the shadow of their closets
They keep linens and old lavender
Let us return to our thunderstorms
Genoa has all its days the same

In an immobile countryside
With the rain that soaks us
And the red prawns are a dream
And the sun is a yellow flash on the windshield...

With that kind of face
That kind of expression
That we have seen Genoa with
We are never quite sure
That the place we're heading to
Won't swallow us and we won't return