News, pensieri e parole (non di Battisti) dallo Scigghio calabrese. ‘Chi non vive per servire, non serve per vivere’
12 febbraio 2012
SHE
I looked for her ev’ry day,
I went in circles 'round and 'round,
Ev’ryone stepped on my way,
She’s the one I haven’t found.
In the few days when She came,
I could see her just one time:
She’s the sun after the rain,
She’s hidden gold deep in the mine.
We’re in her neighbourhood,
And we said ‘bye out in the cold,
We ended up by talkin’ of food,
So many things I left untold.
She’s the only, She’s the one
For which I really care:
She walks smart just like a swan,
She’s so gracious and so rare.
And it’s sure, She can’t deceive
By sayin’ nobody courted her,
No I really can’t believe,
‘Cause she’s so sweet and so fair.
If She dwelled the Sioux lands,
I’d stand lined up ‘fore her tepee,
With a blanket in my hands,
In a long row, with her to be.
Here I do it in my way,
By usin’ words that crowd my head,
What’s in my heart so I can say,
Without fearin’ to turn red.
I keep writin’ with no fear,
And She’s my daily soundtrack,
It’s my way to keep her near,
As I wait She can come back.
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