Lyrics and translation Davide Van De Sfroos - Poor Italia

Poor Italia

E i sann tütt luur, e i fann tütt luur,
Balòss e canàja, barbuni, dutüur,
Sistemen el mund
Intant ch'inn drèe a mangià,
Diventen gentil
Quand i tröven de ciulà.
Sempru incazzàa cun la facia verda,
Sempru prunt a vend anca la merda,
Sempru prunt a fa' la roba giusta
E pö de dree g'hann sempru scià la frusta.

Vann in Tailandia in lècc cui tusanett
E pìchen la sua perché füma i sigarett...

E disen poor Italia, poor Italia
E disen poor Italia, poor Italia
E disen poor Italia, poor Italia, poor Italia, poor Italia
Prunta una cruus per chi che sbaglia...

Prunt a sparà a chi pröva a fa' quaicoss
Apena gh'è un prublema
La büten in del foss
Apena levàa sö se caghen adoss
L'è la filusofia per creed de vèss balòss.

I se scandalizen pèrchè gh'è la guera,
I büten giò i fiöo'n de la rüdera,
Te varden crepà cun scià na cinepresa
E pö se scunden tücc dent in gesa.

I hann rubàa tütt quel che gh'era de rubà
I hann metüu in galera e i han tacàa a caragnà...

Rit.

Se va ma' quaicoss
Ghe l'han col guernu,
Se va ma' tütcoss
Ghe l'hann cul Padreterno,
Se'l fa cold i vören l'invernu
Se'l fa frècc chi vaghen al'infernu,
Vören la calma e fànn dumà casott
Crumpen tutcòss
E ghe va mai ben nagott,
Disen che lur ciapen urdin de nissön
E fann tütt quell
Che g'hann dì in television.

Pasen la vita a pisàa cuntra'l veent
Perché l'impurtant l'è mai vèss cuntent.

Rit.
Sempru in prima fila
Quand finiss la bataglia...

Poor Italy

You're all of the same ilk, all rogues,
Buffoons and crooks, tramps, beggars,
The world's system
While they're busy wining and dining,
They become all kind
When they find someone to pluck.
Always pissed off with a green face,
Always ready to sell even shit,
Always ready to do the right thing
And then they always get whipped afterwards.

They go to Thailand on the sly with young girls
And beat their women for smoking cigarettes...

And then they say poor Italy, poor Italy
And then they say poor Italy, poor Italy
And then they say poor Italy, poor Italy, poor Italy, poor Italy
They have a cross at the ready for those who do wrong...

Ready to shoot anyone who tries to do something
As soon as there's a problem
They throw him in the ditch
As soon as they get up they shit themselves
That's their philosophy, so they can think they're cool.

They're shocked because of the war,
They throw the children out of the gutter,
They watch you die with a video camera
Then they all hide in church.

They've stolen everything that could be stolen
They've put people in jail and started to grumble...

Chorus.

If something goes wrong,
It's the government's fault,
If everything goes wrong,
It's God's fault,
If it's cold they want winter,
If it's cold they go to hell,
They want peace and only create chaos
They complain about everything
And nothing is ever good enough for them,
They say they take orders from no one
And they do everything
That they're told on television.

They spend their lives pissing against the wind
Because the important thing is never to be happy.

Chorus.
Always on the front lines
When the battle is over...