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Il carretto passava e quell' uomo gridava 'gelati! '
Al ventuno del mese I nostri soldi erano gi finiti
Io pensavo a mia madre e rivedevo I suoi vestiti
Il pi bello era nero e coi fiori non ancora appassiti
All' uscita di scuola I ragazzi vendevano libri
Io restavo a guardarli cercando il coraggio per imitarli
Poi sconfitto tornavo a giocar con la mente e I suoi tarli
E la sera al telefono tu mi chiedevi: perchй non parli
Che anno й
Che giorno й
Questo й il tempo di vivere

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