I saw him being born, this little one
And the cries of his poor mother were only announcing the arrival of the flood
They said of his father, that he was born in Vesuvius
Him, in a pool of blood, yeah
What were you hoping for?
A nice little kitty?
Wolves make wolves and that's it
And the wolf, he has grown well
His fangs have grown and so has his appetite
A very big appetite
He quickly understood the meaning of business
The value of the land and how to take it from them
Here, the earth, the walls have only one smell, his
And he spreads it like blood rolls between the slabs of Napoli
Yes, I saw him being born, this little one
A few streets from the old port, there
These same streets that saw him sow lead and death
They say that the cross he wears on his chest
Closed its eyelids every time he took a life, poor thing
I believe it never really could open its eyes
This cross

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