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Roberto Vecchioni – A. R. lyrics

La miseria di una stanza a Londra
Le fumerie di Soho:
Gi? Si buttava via.
E sua madre nel fienile, nel ricordo:
Vecchia, scassata borghesia.
Ribaltare le parole, invertire il senso
Fino allo sputo,
Cercando un'altra poesia.
E Verlaine che gli sparava e gli gridava:
"non lasciarmi, no, non lasciarmi, vita mia"...
E nave, porca nave vai
La gamba mi fa male, dai
Le luci di Marsiglia non arrivan mai.
"
Les yeux vert-chou, les yeux vert-chou,
Sous l'arbretendronnier qui bave vous cautchous...

Portoghesi, inglesi e tanti altri uccelli di rapina
Scelse per compagnia



Lyrics taken from http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/r/roberto_vecchioni/a_r.html

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