the rain slips, slides with her.
inside a heart full, full.
I never imagined my life would be like now.
or maybe yes.
hands and hugs, yours, I have never left.
Milan slips this is my soundtrack, a 'Ennio Morricone in his best performance. with pauses placed at the right time, the suspense and all the rest.
on this asphalt walking on my dreams I seek right way, or rather the best way to find their way a bit, to keep everything together.
beautiful day in the rain and tears are mixed and not to show my shyness.
a laugh trying to confuse.
nostalgia rogue.
upon the folds of the clouds that bring and leave, which are swollen.
on a blue sofa where it says my name.
that becomes stronger.
shrugs.
and think back on late night chat with you. you know who I am without ever asked or tried to understand, why do not you needed.
no questions asked.
friendly hearts of many past lives.
are cult films, pictures in black and white in the suitcase of dreams .. the one with the stamps on the travel industry.
a super 8, the chips for the phone calls of love away from telephone booths by the sea.
to do with young men rheumatism.
know! we will finish well.
with trains of New Year ..
maybe those oh God no. No, no!
movies Vanzina Christmas yet, but the trains still ..
uf. that unsettling image, with kids 20 years we take the piss.
no!
the rain objects makes it look like in the old films.
maybe I'm being influenced.
Well who cares!
the supercazzola is always around the corner, my friends!
and for this we will force us to one another.
up to the age in which we bring together the Bagini.
with eternal love and greetings.
I love you.
ps you are always big, SATISFACTION!
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