Translation of Dentista Croazia from Italian to English
What will we say to the children we will never have
About those sleepless nights?
Black as pitch like the hands of gas station attendants
In which we felt like the Rolling Stones
Crushed in a Ducato with guitars in hand
In Autogrill to review the sets well
And spend a hundred Euros in Camogli
There was a strange air in the motels
Like an eternal arrival
The stains of dreams on the beds go away with Chanteclair
No light at San Siro
And we, children of a god who is agnostic
But believes in the horoscope
And when you die he doesn't ask you, "Where are you going?"
He just asks you, "How was the live?"
I no longer wear rock band t-shirts
I've come a long way, yes, but by hitchhiking
At twenty-seven you can die
Or become a little more pop
And all the bands break up
They choose each other and then they dissolve
But we are stuck on that night
Of a magical August
Rome-Milan in four hours
It takes a lot, a lot of heart
On the door was written "Croatian Dentist"
It was a bad figure, but it cost little
During the week he took the elderly to Zagreb
For perfect teeth and a low-cost smile
They laughed behind our backs
And that's how they became wide
Waiting for something that never came
Like Seymour with Fry
I no longer wear rock band t-shirts
I've come a long way, yes, but by hitchhiking
At twenty-seven you can die
Or become a little more pop
And all the bands break up
They choose each other and then they dissolve
But we are stuck on that night
Of a magical August
Rome-Milan in four hours
It takes a lot, a lot of heart
And there is a destiny called destination
But you never get there
If you try to run
I don't know what stage of evolution we are at
But maybe in this same sentence I find the answer
And now Croatian Dentist, what happened to you?
"Luci a San Siro" now someone else sings it to you
You taught me that we only live for moments
And that anything passes if we grit our teeth
I no longer wear rock band t-shirts
I've come a long way, yes, but by hitchhiking
At twenty-seven you can die
Or become a little more pop
And all the bands break up
They choose each other and then they dissolve
But we are stuck on that night
Of a magical August
Rome-Milan in four hours
It takes a lot, a lot of heart
en Français