Let me sing
With the guitar in hand
Let me sing
I am an Italian

Good morning Italy, the al dente spaghetti
And a partisan as president
With the car radio always in the right hand
A canary above the window

Good morning Italy with your artists
With too much America on the posters
With the songs, with love
With the heart
With more women and always fewer nuns

Good morning Italy, good morning Maria
With eyes full of melancholy
Good morning God
You know I'm here too

Let me sing
With the guitar in hand
Let me sing
A song slowly

Let me sing
Because I am proud
I am an Italian
A true Italian

Good morning Italy that is not scared
With the mint shaving cream
With a chalk-striped suit on blue
And the replay on Sunday TV

Good morning Italy with the restricted coffee
The new socks in the first drawer
With the flag in the dry cleaner
And a Fiat 600 down in the body shop

Good morning Italy, good morning Maria
With eyes full of melancholy
Good morning God
You know I'm here too

Let me sing
With the guitar in hand
Let me sing
A song slowly

Let me sing
Because I am proud
I am an Italian
A true Italian

(Ta-na-na-na-na-na-na
Ta-na-na-na-na-na-na
Ta-na-na-na-na, ta-na-na
Ta-na-na, ta-na-na)

Let me sing
With the guitar in hand
Let me sing
A song slowly

Let me sing
Because I am proud
I am an Italian
A true Italian

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