Testo e musica di Stefano Droghetti
Voce e strumenti di Stefano Droghetti
© 2009 Stefano Droghetti, licenza Creative Commons BY-NC-SA
Immagine di copertina di Andrea Moretto
In these strange days the fairways still lack
In these highways the engines give their best
We are voices, we are numbers, we are points
We are boxes, we are spare parts of a gear
This is the wrong time, the wrong place to be told
This is a disco, we have to be glad to be dumb
We’re all workers in this factory of sounds
We are the dancers, we are the hammers for the ground
We’re parphernalia for coils and transformers
It seems we are just one voice
They pay us with drugs and fortunes knowing
that we’ll die coming back to our homes
However some say: “What a bad taste this song”
Don’t worry, no longer it goes on
They triggered our brain waves to have fun
In a nighttime we see the same lights of the sun
Great God Almighty gave us a great gift, we’re so proud
He gave us music, he gave us Euros, pence and pounds
He gave us fast cars, discos, so sweet
He gave us holy writings on concrete
We’re perfectly coherent in an iron logic
But it changes from day to day
We’re suckled by petrol pumps, filling stations
and we like to be fed by their breasts