At the Porta Palazzo market they line up
They line up
The tomboy girls line up
They make a show
And they let themselves be guessed under the skirts
Under the skirts
And they let themselves be guessed under the skirts
The black skirts and above the loading dock
They queue, they queue
The stick men make
The queue on the concrete
And they let themselves be searched under the jackets
Under the jackets
And they let themselves be searched under
The jackets to be mended
But one winter moon morning
There was snow, there was snow
On the square a hell breaks out and everyone
Asking: and how and where
From the loading queue someone shouts
Someone shouts
On the square of Porta Palazzo among the
Girls the line breaks
And there's one lying on the ground
Above the snow that evaporates
There's one lying on the ground and
All the others make a crown around her
And at 7:45 it was already born, it was already out
At 7:45 they laid it
On the flower stand

Please give me a document
Says the guard as soon as she arrives
Breathless from the loading to
See what was happening
Please give a document and also
Something to declare
This is a case of public delivery
On municipal public ground
But there are no documents and
Not even someone who says anything
Only people who pull and push
Around the carnations and gardenias
There are no documents and
Almost nothing left to document
Only that one winter moon day all
The square wanted its flower

The queue returns from the loading
The line returns, the show returns
Of the stick men
Of the tomboy girls
Who let themselves be searched under the jackets
Under the jackets
Who let themselves be guessed under the skirts
The black skirts

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