Heat. It's hot!
It's very hot in this car at this time of night
with heavy eyelids and broken bones
if I could at least open it a little more? the window
but there? Gianluca sleeping and I don't think he's cute
anyway just a timid breath of the sea comes in
like a smell of rocks, moss and salt
and this? Leuca calling you from the rearview mirror
We just left and already? It seems like hours to me.
What then for me to drive to the end? always been a pleasure
cos? I decide on my own where I have to stop
but here it seems to me that stopping is like dying
and even if Otranto looks at me I don't want to hear it
so? I continue on this journey in this infinite Puglia
and I inevitably begin to rethink life
I don't have the strength to suffocate the thoughts
who knows if by speeding up they come back a little faster? light.
And yet nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing to do
there is? something inside that pushes and hurts
and instead there is nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing to do
? something inside that pushes and forces me to scream
He made me apples a chepa
He made me apples a chepa
He made me apples a chepa
He made me apples a chepa
Sleep ! I'm sleepy!
I'm too sleepy to fight windmills
do I drive without anymore? understand and that doesn't mean I slow down
I barely manage not to confuse the road and the rocks
and maybe I read something that told me about Lecce.
And after Brindisi, Ostuni, Monopoli fly away
/>riskily poised between sand and fantasy
I would like to hold out my hand
and say goodbye to them, let my anguish slide slowly.
Clear, lucid, lucid I must remain
and not let myself be stunned from this sea
long, slow and crafty that guides me
don't listen anymore? these cries
And instead there is nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing to do
? something inside that pushes and hurts
and instead there is nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing to do
? something inside that pushes and forces me to scream
He made me apples a chepa
He made me apples a chepa
He made me apples a chepa
He made me apples a chepa

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