Black Canal Testo

Testo Black Canal

E' Rovazzi-Morandi la coppia dell'estate
They'll always find a place for you in the sidewalk cafesNo one ventures into the streets these daysExcept strangers and those like me, looking for workI noticed the smell when I got off the busAnd traced it down to a canal that ranRight through the heart of the cityLike an open vein full of black rotten bloodA mirror surface broken only by the bubbles of gasEscaping from the stagnating mess that lay on the bottomFuelled by the chemicals and effluent of the cityWhich was fed, in turn, by the barges and the shipsThat followed that line and created the waves across thatSurface to the dockside where they unloaded their holdsThe swarms of people clambering over themI sat down in a cafe and I was holding my ownAnd minding my own businessAnd a voice spoke in my ears as if it recognizedThat I was questioning the source of the smellHave another beer boy, take it with a pinch of snuffAnd my eyes were bedazzled, by the jewels in his silken cuffAnd a voice rolled out from an ashen cloud from behind a long cigarSon, you'll never need to smell the black canalIt was as if he'd read my mind, as if he expected itAnd, as the afternoon was wasted, I became awareI was becoming wrapped up in his worldI became aware of the smell from the bouquet in his buttonholeIt was taking me away from the canalAnd away from my questionsI was aware that the perfumes were all around usAnd he sold me the city, well at least he tried to with all his storiesAll the silks out of ChinaAnd all the satins out of SpainAll the powders for your nosesWill keep the stench at bayHave another beer boy, take it with a pinch of snuffYour eyes will be bedazzled, by the jewels in my scented cuffAnd a voice rolled out from an ashen cloud from behind a long cigarSon, you'll never need to smell this black canalAnd my world was spinnin', my head was awashWith this promises and his beerAnd I looked up as he reached downAnd snorted the flower in his buttonholeHe smiled and his eyes liedI was staring at a suit with no soulNo matter how you wash themHow you scrub and bleach and boilYou'll never get rid of the smell of the black canalOf the black canalBlack canalThe black acnalThe black canalThe black canal

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