Parlavo di voi ad un amico..e di questa canzone.. Che per il testo e la melodia mi ha sempre ricordato il grande De Andrè... Certo.. fa strano rivedervi oggi..a distanza di 8 anni... Allora proprio ragazzini...Roberto..La tua timidezza e tenerezza.. :-) Ancora pensavo Al successo e alla "freschezza" di questo pezzo, ancora oggi... Uno dei primi pezzi...e in assoluto uno dei migliori...
In English (because beauty transcends language): Sunday morning it’s always the same story, When I sit and wait for people wanting advice, Even if a thief confesses a robbery, He looks into eyes tired and without wonder, You should know what sister Concetta told me the other evening, That she’s pregnant with a child that isn’t brother Mattia’s, But knowing that he’s warming another’s bed, I sent her home with just six Ave Marias, How are things done? How are things done? To live better you have to confess, But these prayers are good for nothing, If two hours later you’re ready to sin again, Madonna! If I told you the story of Salvatore, Who gambled his soul away at the machines, If he’d listened to his father he’d be a gentleman, Yesterday he knifed a man for a cigarette, Instead, this morning, the old man asked if it were a sin To have relations twice a month with a prostitute, And after he had even confessed how much he spends.... He left saying “Father, she’s a minor,” How are things done? How are things done? To live better you have to confess, But these prayers are good for nothing, If two hours later you’re ready to sin again, But you can’t imagine the suffering I endured, Marrying Rosa to a man in prison, She, who twenty years ago was my first love, With my heart in pieces, I had to give her my blessing, And when with that black eye and broken arm, She said without a trace of wickedness, “It was my husband,” I hugged her hard and maybe I shouldn’t have, ...maybe she was too close. How are things done? How are things done? To live better I have to confess, Even if I have to be God’s judge for all of you, I commit a few sins myself...
Parlavo di voi ad un amico..e di questa canzone.. Che per il testo e la melodia mi ha sempre ricordato il grande De Andrè...
Certo.. fa strano rivedervi oggi..a distanza di 8 anni... Allora proprio ragazzini...Roberto..La tua timidezza e tenerezza.. :-)
Ancora pensavo Al successo e alla "freschezza" di questo pezzo, ancora oggi... Uno dei primi pezzi...e in assoluto uno dei migliori...
In English (because beauty transcends language):
Sunday morning it’s always the same story,
When I sit and wait for people wanting advice,
Even if a thief confesses a robbery,
He looks into eyes tired and without wonder,
You should know what sister Concetta told me the other evening,
That she’s pregnant with a child that isn’t brother Mattia’s,
But knowing that he’s warming another’s bed,
I sent her home with just six Ave Marias,
How are things done? How are things done?
To live better you have to confess,
But these prayers are good for nothing,
If two hours later you’re ready to sin again,
Madonna! If I told you the story of Salvatore,
Who gambled his soul away at the machines,
If he’d listened to his father he’d be a gentleman,
Yesterday he knifed a man for a cigarette,
Instead, this morning, the old man asked if it were a sin
To have relations twice a month with a prostitute,
And after he had even confessed how much he spends....
He left saying “Father, she’s a minor,”
How are things done? How are things done?
To live better you have to confess,
But these prayers are good for nothing,
If two hours later you’re ready to sin again,
But you can’t imagine the suffering I endured,
Marrying Rosa to a man in prison,
She, who twenty years ago was my first love,
With my heart in pieces, I had to give her my blessing,
And when with that black eye and broken arm,
She said without a trace of wickedness, “It was my husband,”
I hugged her hard and maybe I shouldn’t have,
...maybe she was too close.
How are things done? How are things done?
To live better I have to confess,
Even if I have to be God’s judge for all of you,
I commit a few sins myself...
Che testo!!! Bravissimi ragazzi
senza dubbio la mia preferita.
Roberto sei un mito e una grandissima persona
Grande pezzo
stuuupendaaaa
Ho sentito cantare per caso Roberto,non lo conoscevo, uno tosto e tenero, mi è piaciuto molto
Un testo struggente❤️
perché chiamarlo dialetto? nn sarebbe più opportuno se dicessimo lingua Napoletana?
cmq siete davvero bravissimi