Sweet Madness Street

jumping in a world of sounds. . .

Today get your cinnamon and pray
Today get your cinnamon and pray for the beauty
Of our land and for the secrets, for the moments
That we use to share

Leather, covers, broken glasses, playing music and the
rain, airplanes, morbid phrases turning into dust…

Spinning around, swimming, jumping
in a world of sounds… you are always in my favourite dreams,
lovely tender and proud
you may be…

Running around searching, looking for something
to find while I’m still here waiting for you,
do you see me at all my sweet sweet sweet love?

Today there is nothing left to say
Today there is nothing left to say

We all know that
just a word can break as into pieces
so as we cannot forget

Leather, covers, broken glasses, playing music and the
Rain, airplanes, morbid phrases turning into dust…
Spinning around, swimming, jumping
in a world of sounds…you are always in my favourite dreams,
lovely tender and proud
You may be…
Running around searching, looking for something
to find while I’m still here waiting for you,
do you see me at all my sweet love?

Black and white photographs, dirty clothes, two guitars
dirty clothes, two guitars…

Spinning around, swimming, jumping
In a world of sounds…you are always in my favourite
dreams, lovely tender and proud
You may be…
Running around searching, looking for something to find
while I’m still here waiting for you…
Do you see me at all my sweet sweet sweet love?

Today, music by L’aura

Rieccomi. Dopo tre giorni di shopping full immersion a Roma.
Ogni volta è un’ emozione nuova. Un particolare, un dettaglio non notato, la luna dritta sul Tevere con lo sfondo della cupola di San Pietro, i notturni che passano ogni secolo, Trastevere, Piazza Trilussa, il Gianicolo, Campo de’ Fiori, Piazza Navona, Piazza Venezia, il Colosseo di sfuggita, il trantran ininterrotto, perfino alle 3.00 di notte, di Termini, Ostia, il parco di Piazza Malatesta..

E’ la mia città quella lì. Ed è lì solo per me. L’unico grande amore della mia vita che non tradisce, che non delude.
Perchè non puoi mica negare che il solo sentirne pronunciare il nome ti porta lissù. In alto. No, non tre metri sopra il cielo. Più su. Su Ponte Sisto.