Povera Patria

Poor country
Crushed by the abuses of power
By infamous people, who don't know what shame is
They think they are powerful and everything they do is fine
And everything belongs to them
Among the rulers
How many perfect and useless clowns
This country devastated by pain
But don't you feel a bit sorry
For those bodies on the ground without warmth anymore?
It won't change, it won't change
It won't change, maybe it will change
But how to excuse
The hyenas in the stadiums and those in the newspapers?
In the mud sinks the boot of the pigs
I am a little ashamed and it hurts me
To see a man like an animal
It won't change, it won't change
Yes, it will change, you'll see it will change
We can hope
That the world returns to more normal levels
That it can contemplate the sky and the flowers
That we no longer talk about dictatorships
If we still have a bit to live
Meanwhile, spring is late to arrive