Don Raffaé

My name is Pasquale Cafiero
and I'm a brigadier of the prison oinè
My name is Cafiero Pasquale
I've been in Poggioreale since '53
And at the hundredth lock
In the evening I feel like a rag
Luckily, in the special ward
There's a brilliant man who talks to me
All day with four scoundrels
Brigands, pimps, cuckolded and lackeys
All the time with this filth
That spits threats and takes it out on me
But in the end, I tidy up like a pope
I unbutton and read the newspaper
I seek advice from Don Raffaé
He explains what I think and we drink coffee
Ah, what a beautiful coffee
Even in prison they know how to make it
With the recipe that Cicirinella
My cellmate's mother gave us

Front page, twenty news items
Twenty-one injustices and what does the State do?
It's shocked, outraged, committed
Then it throws in the towel with great dignity
I rack my brains, wipe my forehead
Luckily, there's someone who answers me
To that most chosen and immense man
I ask for consent, to Don Raffaé
A gentleman with six children
Asked for a house and they give us advice
The councilor, may God forgive him
Inside the trailer he raises minks
You just need a move, a voice
This Christ lifts a cross off us
Respectfully, it's three o'clock
Do you want orange juice or coffee?
Ah, what a beautiful coffee
Even in prison they know how to make it
With the recipe that Cicirinella
My cellmate's mother gave us
Ah, what a beautiful coffee
Even in prison they know how to make it
With Cicirinella's recipe
My cellmate's mother specified

There's inflation, devaluation
And the stock market is for those who have it
I don't understand why that salary
Is a dream if I think about it
Add my daughter Innocenza
She wants a husband, she's not patient
I'm not asking for mercy for myself
Do you want me to shave you or do it yourself?
You have a camel coat
That at the maxi-trial you were the most handsome
A brown pinstripe suit
That's how it seemed on television
For this wedding, please Excellency
Lend me to make an appearance
I already have the shoes and the waistcoat
Do you want Campari or coffee?
Ah, what a beautiful coffee
Even in prison they know how to make it
With the recipe that Cicirinella
My cellmate's mother gave us
Ah, what a beautiful coffee
Even in prison they know how to make it
With Cicirinella's recipe
My cellmate's mother specified

Here there's no more dignity, golden prisons
But who has ever seen them, who knows
These are dilapidated for these wretches
They hold immunity
Don Raffaé, you politically
I swear you'd be a saint
But in here you're paying
And outside these others are having fun
By the way, I have a brother
Who's been unemployed for fifteen years
He's taken fifty exams
Ninety applications and two hundred appeals
You who give comfort and work
Eminence, I kiss you and implore you
He sleeps with mom and me
What a cream of Arabia this coffee is