A Pa'
Francesco De Gregori
To Dad
I don't remember if there was a moon,
and neither what eyes the boy had,
but I remember that taste in my throat
and the smell of the sea like a slap. To dad.
And Rome was so far away,
and Rome was so close,
and there was that light that calls them,
like a morning star. To dad.
To dad. Everything passes, the rest goes.
And I want to live like lilies in the fields,
like the birds of the sky survive,
and I want to live like the lilies of the fields,
and above the lilies of the fields fly.
