Brunori Sas - Don Abbondio (audio ufficiale) #canzonicheparlanodamore Don Abbondio in the torment
Of my violated sea
Of the state of things
Which by now is taken for granted
In the tragicomic farce
Of a stretch of highway
In deaths by mistake
On a hospital bed
Don Abbondio in silence
Don Abbondio in absence
Don Abbondio at the funerals
Of our conscience
Don Abbondio is me
Leaning out the window
Watching the ruins
Counting what’s left
And no, not tonight, mmh
Don Abbondio baked pasta
And pork sausage
Don Abbondio is my nephew
We need to get him settled
Among the chairs and armchairs
Of a city council
Among hands smoothing each other
And an electoral seat
Don Abbondio in bows
In the back that bends
Don Abbondio who in the end
Why the hell should we even care
Don Abbondio is me
Leaning out the window
Watching the ruins
Counting what’s left
And no, not tonight, ooh
Dai dadai dadai dadai da dai
Dai dadai dadai dadai da dai
Don Abbondio is my mother
My land and my dialect
The Madonna who bows
Out of fear and respect
For a red tomato
Like the blood of a Christ
Whose skin is so black
No one has ever seen him
Working in pitch dark
Black as is black the mourning
Of those who will never have anything
Because everything was taken from them
Don Abbondio in my gaze
That always looks elsewhere
For fear that to the clues then
The evidence will be added
And no, not tonight, ooh
Dai dadai dadai dadai da dai
Dai dadai dadai dadai dadarada
Dai dadai dadai dadai da da
Dai dadai dadai dadai dadarada, ooooooh
Don Abbondio in the excuses, in the justifications
In the statues, in the squares, in the commemorations
In the voice of a boss you must never name
In the mouth that only opens to eat
And no, not tonight, mmh, mmh
