When I was little, I fell in love with everything
I chased after dogs
And from March to February, my grandfather watched
Over the flow of horses and oxen
Over my business, over your business
And never believe in the God of the English
And when I had two hundred moons and maybe one too many
I stole my first horse and they made me a man
I changed my name to "wolf's tail"
I swapped my pony for a mute horse
And never believe in their losing God
And it was on the night of the long star with the tail
That we found my grandfather crucified on the church
Crucified with forks used at dinner
He was dirty and clean with blood and cream
And never believe in their greedy God
And maybe I was eighteen and no longer smelled of snake
I owned a crowbar, a hat, and a slingshot
And one gala night with a pointed stone
I killed a tuxedo and stole it
And never believe in the God of the ladder
Then we returned to Brianza for the opening of the bison hunt
They gave us breath and urine tests
An Andalusian poet explained the mechanism to us
"For the bison hunt," he said, "the number is closed"
And never believe in a happy-ending God
And I was already old when near Rome at Little Big Horn
Short-haired general spoke to us at the university
About the blue suit brothers who buried the hatchets
But we didn’t smoke with him; he hadn’t come in peace
And never believe in a "get your ass kicked" God
And now that I have burned twenty sons on my groom's bed
That I unloaded my rage in a film studio
That I learned to fish with hand grenades
That they carved me in tears on the Arch of Trajan
With a glass spoon I dig into my story
But I hit a bit randomly because I no longer remember
And a God
And a God
And a God
And a God
And a God out of breath, never believe in him
(by Fabrizio De André & Massimo Bubola)
Coda di Lupo