Cisco — Funerale per sigaro e banda song lyrics and translation
The page contains the lyrics and English translation of the song "Funerale per sigaro e banda" by Cisco.
Lyrics
E' l’undici ottobre mezza mattina Sant’Alessandro
Il vento fresco e le nubi sparse sulla bassa a Correggio
La gente si sta incontrando e si ritrova sul sagrato del duomo
Qualcuno in ritardo si affretta sotto i portici del borgo
C'è la cassa e un dolore immenso e niente più niente da dire
C'è chi piange e chi bestemmia ma le lacrime non vogliono finire
Fanculo alla strada al guardrail alle macchine e al mondo
Alla puzza di sigaro che ancora resta sospesa tutta intorno
Ciao belin, addio belin il tempo si è fermato stavolta
Ciao belin, addio belin un saluto e tutto il resto non conta
Tromboni trombe la fila avanza al funerale per sigaro e banda
Ci sono scout, boyscout, musicisti, osti, fotografi e partigiani
I vecchi seri le bandiere rosse e il cappello stretto in mano
Qualcuno ha la maglia verde col trifoglio ricamato su
Qualcuno ti saluta con la sciarpa rossa e blu
Ciao belin, addio belin un saluto e tutto il resto non conta
Ciao belin, addio belin il tempo si è fermato stavolta
Ciao belin, addio belin è sempre la solita storia
Tromboni trombe la fila avanza al funerale per sigaro e banda
Farewell farewell, funerale per sigaro e banda
Farewell farewell, funerale per sigaro e banda
Farewell farewell, funerale per sigaro e banda
«Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling
From glen to glen, and down the mountain side
The summer’s gone, and all the flowers are dying
'tis you must go and I must bide.»
Farewell farewell, funerale per sigaro e banda
Farewell farewell, funerale per sigaro e banda
(Grazie a Kiary8 per questo testo)
Lyrics translation
It is the eleventh of October half Morning St. Alexander
The fresh wind and the clouds scattered on the lower Correggio
People are meeting and find themselves on the churchyard of the duomo
Someone late rushes under the porches of the village
There's the crate and an immense pain and nothing more to say
There are those who cry and those who blaspheme but the tears do not want to end
Fuck the road to the guardrail to the cars and the world
The smell of cigar still hanging all around
Hello belin, goodbye belin time has stopped this time
Hello belin, goodbye belin a greeting and everything else does not count
Trombones trumpets the line advances to the funeral for cigar and band
There are scouts, boyscouts, musicians, hosts, photographers and partisans
The old serious the red flags and the tight hat in hand
Does anyone have the green shirt with the Clover embroidered on
Someone greets you with the red and blue scarf
Hello belin, goodbye belin a greeting and everything else does not count
Hello belin, goodbye belin time has stopped this time
Hello belin, goodbye belin is always the usual story
Trombones trumpets the line advances to the funeral for cigar and band
Farewell farewell, funeral for cigar and band
Farewell farewell, funeral for cigar and band
Farewell farewell, funeral for cigar and band
"Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling
From glen to glen, and down the mountain side
The summer's gone, and all the flowers are dying
'tis you must go and I must bide.»
Farewell farewell, funeral for cigar and band
Farewell farewell, funeral for cigar and band
(Thanks to Kiary8 for this text)