Thegiornalisti - New York Лирицс транслатион то енглисх

New York

I badly turn my head from side to side,
I count the stars of the American flag,
like your skirt,
like your tyre.
 
Armies are moving, there's a desire to escape.
To find some peace, where does one have to go?
You remind me of a real dawn,
you remind me of a real dawn.
 
It will be another day spent in bed
with the water bottle on the side,
the phone close.
 
And this sun of New York,
I wake in the morning, you're not nearby,
well, no.
And I would like to sleep a little longer
while the leaves of this autumn fly
that the wind later brings you as far as Saturn,
where you are.
Oh, where you are.
 
I begin the battle with my mind, with my body,
but I'm a scoundrel and I take the guitar
which brings me up to dinner,
which brings me home.
 
It will be another day spent in bed
with the water bottle on the side,
the phone close.
 
And this sun of New York,
I wake in the morning, you're not nearby,
well, no.
And I would like to sleep a little longer
while the leaves of this autumn fly
that the wind later brings you as far as Saturn,
where you are.
Oh, where you are.
Oh, where you are.
 
The aroma of the new tennis Wilson,
of the Superga at the sea,
of the outdoor showers in Fregene,
of Simone and Cristina who love each other.
 
And this sun of New York,
I wake in the morning, you're not nearby,
well, no.
And I would like to sleep a little longer
while the leaves of this autumn fly
that the wind later brings you as far as Saturn,
where you are.
Oh, where you are.
Oh, where you are.
Where you are.
 


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