Porro a Porro

There is a half-open door, between your mouth
and mine, there is a dead word, an empty look
There is a silence that kills, a staircase that goes up
and a doubt that brings me down and a head in the clouds.

I admit it, I smoke joints daily, I smoke one and
it's like turning on the radio, but inside my bitter
head, always so lonely and so full of sadness.
The songs that I love come out,
the tunes that motivate me the most, the
bitterness turns into poppies and the sadness
brightens my life.

Come on, give me something to smoke because I feel lonely,
give me something to smoke because I don't want to be sad, no.
Drag by drag, joint by joint, the air undresses
the moon dresses up.
Let me smoke because I feel lonely,
give me something to smoke because I don't want to be sad, no.
Drag by drag, joint by joint. The air undresses, the moon
dresses up.