GIORGIO GABER - IO SE FOSSI DIO - 1980 studio version - rec from LP If I were God
And I might be
Otherwise, I can’t see who
If I were God
I wouldn’t let myself be fooled by people’s sly ways
I wouldn’t be an amateur
I would always be present
I would truly be everywhere spying
Or better yet, criticizing
Precisely what people do
For example, the petty bourgeois
How boring
He never commits big sins
He is never intensely sinful
After all, poor guy, he is too wretched and mean
And even knowing that God is more precise than a Swede
He thinks that the small mistake
Doesn’t count or isn’t noticed
Because of this
If I were God
I’d prefer the past century
If I were God
I would miss the ancient fury
Where you hated and then loved
And killed the enemy
But I’m not yet
In the kingdom of heaven
I’m too entangled
In your messes.
If I were God
I wouldn’t be such an idiot
To believe only in the heart’s beats
Or only in the distillations of reason
If I were God
I would definitely be very whole and very detached
Like you should be
If I were God
I wouldn’t have skimped
I would have made a better man
Yes, well, I admit it
It didn’t come out so well
And that’s why, to preach what’s right
I sometimes put someone down
But then people like to interpret
And make even more chaos
If I were God
I wouldn’t have made my son’s mistakes
And about love and charity
I would have explained myself a little better
In fact, it’s not normal at all that a mere mortal
For crap like compassion and hunger in India
Has so much love in reserve that he doesn’t even dream of
That makes you say
“But then how can he be such a bastard?”
If I were God
I wouldn’t be reduced like you
And if I were, I would certainly die for something important
Unfortunately, the chance to die likably
Doesn’t always come up
And even the most reckless adventurer
Dies wherever it happens and not even all that convinced
If I were God
I would do whatever I want
I wouldn’t be permissive
I would beat my son
I would be strict and just
I would curse the English as I was asked
And if I could
Also the Africanists and Asia
And then the Americans and the Russians
I would beat activism like a salad mix
And slap
The Voltairians, the thieves
The stupid and the bigots
Because God is violent!
And God’s slaps
Stick everyone to the wall
But I’m not yet
In the kingdom of heaven
I’m too entangled
In your messes
So far we’ve joked
But it ends up that someone
Sooner or later takes a liking
And using God as an excuse brings out
Everything he thinks is right
And you girl
Who tells me it’s not true
That the petty bourgeois is just a bit of an idiot
That man is really a criminal
A scoundrel, a pig in every way, a rascal
And that he even tried to rape his own daughter
Me, as an invented God
As a fictitious God
I take courage and shoot my judgment and say:
Let’s hope they shoot your father in the ass, dear daughter
So for the papers he becomes
A good family man
If I were God
I would really curse the journalists dico:
