Canzone Di Notte N. 2

And once again it's night and I'm playing,
I don't even know why, maybe 'cause I'm alive
And I want to say "I am" this way
Or maybe 'cause it's just a way to avoid going to bed
Or maybe 'cause there's still some drinks left
And I fill my glass...

And the echo has just faded
Of the laughter shared with friends, of happy toasts
Where everyone closes their pain,
Where no one is like now, alone with themselves
Saying "Where did I go wrong, where was it?"
Saying "Where did I mess up?"

Yet it feels good in the evening
To wander through streets and taverns, wine and melancholy,
And two songs sung lightly
Where shouting hides the desire to be taken seriously
The fact that you're sad or bored
And all your doubts...

But the moralists have closed the bars
And morals have shut your hearts and snuffed out your passions:
It's nice to return to "normality,"
It's easy to go back with all the tired white sheep!
Sorry, I won't join this crowd:
I'll die a black sheep!

These may be things you've heard before
Or written on a somewhat stale meter, but for now, this is mine
And then, you don't say these things,
Of course, for those not used to thinking, it's discouraged,
It's good to be a little skeptical
For those who are a bit different...

But now you have the power,
Now you have supremacy, rights, and police,
The gods, the commandments, and duty,
Unfortunately, I don't know how, you're many and many here in front
Ignoring that insincere worm
They call "Thought"...

But don't worry,
We're people who end badly: jail or hospital!
The anarchists have always been beaten down
And the libertarian is always controlled by the clergy, by the State:
No escape, among those dressed for the parade,
Those who wear a laugh...

Or maybe that's not the problem
And everyone lives inside their own selfishness dressed in sophistry
And everyone builds their own system
Of small irrational grudges, of personal cosmos,
Forgetting that in the end, we'll all have
Two meters of ground...

And once again it's night and I'm playing,
I don't even know why, maybe 'cause I'm alive
Or maybe to feel less alone
Or maybe 'cause at night strange ghosts live and vain dreams
Bring that well-known hypochondria,
Then... the bottle is empty...