Текст песни Paolo (Momus) с переводом

Paolo why do your lovers caress in the bows of round-bellied boats?

Who is Sara, the girl with the stained-glass face?

What is he thinking, the man in the spectacles under the blood red cliffs?

Where was he when Juventus won their aways?

In America how did your blue-collar brother

Balance his lunch on a skyscraper girder?

How did he feel when Angela spat in his face?

Is the washing still flapping all night behind buildings

Where car factory workers are dreaming of fig trees and marble?

Paolo where is the teacher’s fiancee while he floats in Genoa docks?

What’s the first word that comes into your head when I say 'lemon ice-cream'?

Who shared red wine and a kilo of salad there in the back of your Fiat 500?

What does 'cantautore' really mean?

Is the washing still flapping all night behind buildings

Where car factory workers are dreaming of fountains and tortoiseshell?

Paolo Conte, tell me did Gramsci drink aniseed here in Cafe Garibaldi?

If trains had hands would they run them through their hair?

And all these officials in white painted offices playing with executive toys

How should they punish their wives who are having affairs?

Is the washing still flapping all night behind buildings

Where car factory workers are dreaming of foxgloves and incubae?

Paolo how shall we pass all the hours that stretch between lunchtime and autumn?

Why does the smell of expresso remind you of prowling for girls at the forum?

Are the labels on Turkish cigars secret messages from the Byzantine Empire?

Which are the saunas most favoured by singers in the soft rock idiom?

Is the washing still flapping all night behind buildings

Where car factory workers are dreaming of beehives and newspapers?

Paolo along Via Giulia once I saw breasts in a chink between shutters

While the burglar alarms were screaming insanely like Toscanini prima donnas

And the windows blew shut and I saw my reflection had the eyes of an unborn

daughter

And the lightning was forking lazily over the dome of St Peter’s

Is the washing still flapping all night behind buildings

Where car factory workers are dreaming of pine cones and mortar fire?

Is the washing still flapping all night behind buildings

Where car factory workers are dreaming of pine cones and tortoise shell?

Gang awa hame ye scallywag

Gang awa hame yerseil

Gang awa hame Deacon Brodie

Dancin wi the Diel

The night was your day

The bulb was your sun

Your love was so deep

You turned two to one

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