"Storia di un defunto artista (english translation)"
My dream got destroyed after a meter
In fact I have the face of someone who has lost everything and wants it all back
If only I put in my creed a little less of my ego
Maybe I would have a concrete heart, not a glass one (Uh-uh)
If I look back I'm afraid to see her
Because I feel better if I get away in time from what you are
And if I could I'd disappear
I hate half of what you call: "My city"
And I would kill the other half!
And if I could I'd do more than that
I'd write lyrics for this fools in catalepsy for the Musical Biz
I'd make the same compromises of your stupid King
Instead, I drown in the complexes of e beautiful b*tch
You'd say it, huh? Don't tell me: "Yeah, whatever"
You know what? Before this concerts, a big cachet
I even learned the lyrics by De Andrè
Now I see the cool guys with the Beats by Dre
Well, sorry, I'm not sorry, music is the only muse I abuse
'Cause it doesn't just use me and it never deluded me
Your naked body, instead, refuses me like an intruder
It undresses me and it robs me of any excuse ready for use
That's why I reject your forgiveness
I cry in darkness and I talk to the wall, disappointed in what I am
It's a paradox, the more you take it in your as*h*le, the more you become a man
The more you become someone in future, the more you feel lonely
Here, they say I'm too hyped up and an as*h*le
But I've always been a complexed guy with depression
Who hates each one of his songs, and the next one is even worse
'Cause the result of malaise is a worse malaise
And if you have nothing to lose, you could lose your mind
Now you can't care about malaise, only about being the best, right?
Being the best, right?
That's self-conviction, right?
Then, I am going to be the best, period!