The altar boys go from the church to the river
With candles standing straight and an introibò in their mouths
The altar boys, tender little lambs of the Lord
They are red and white, allalì alleluià
Monsignor the hen, gliding limousine
Shaves the grass-cross with the edges of his piquet
Dahlias on his big face, fat communion
What luxurious flanks, allalì alleluià
The afterlife is a bridge over the washerwomen
Scent of soap and holiness
Chastity is a white sheet that dries by itself
On a grass of alleluià
There's reason to be happy for at least a hundred years
With candles in hand, melting from boredom
Or surrender to those hands, end up like those linens
Flickering in the soap like shrimps in foia
You can soak for at least a hundred years
Soaped up to the core inside eternity
There’s reason to exist, spotless linens,
Take a trip together with the piquet
The altar boys go from the church to the river
With candles standing straight and an introibò in their mouths
With a handkerchief in hand converted to those suds
It’s the soul joking, allalì alleluià
They go quietly, like corks on the wave
With faith standing straight, fresh bait of introibò
The Lord was distracted and the line slips to the bottom
And drowns in allalì alleluià
The afterlife is a bridge
over the washerwomen
Scent of soap
and holiness
Chastity is a white sheet that dries by itself
On a grass
of alleluià

Il Genio italico in azione

Enzo Carella - Vocazione