[vc_row section="yes" bg_color=""][vc_column align="center" width="1/1"][vc_row_inner][vc_column_inner width="1/2"][ish_headline]Lyrics[/ish_headline][/vc_column_inner][vc_column_inner width="1/2"][vc_column_text]Brani

with Alessandra Maoggi[/vc_column_text][/vc_column_inner][/vc_row_inner][vc_row_inner vertical_align="middle"][vc_column_inner width="1/1"][vc_column_text align="left"]

The dogs, they’re gettino closer fast. It’s only three minutes I fell asleep. They’re coming here. Dawn sunrise is not near. My body unwinds, grows longer, stretched out, . The dogs are outhere, barking, moving around, banging against the walls of the prefabricated building, howling, trying to dig the edges of the shack.

The noise, the sound of dogs, is a project. We listen to the project of dogs that wants to materialize, and we leave them the space to do so: our silence and stillness, leaves living space, in which to concretize the project of dogs. Nobody protrudes its head from the bed to look. Even the child does not cry anymore, obviously he is not afraid.

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The city and the city
There’are some annoyed cops taking pictures.
There’are some annoyed cops taking pictures. She’s small, soft, has amber skin, she’s bright. She’s familiar to me. She’s a bearer of calm that transmits to the whole crowd that, amidst screams and applause, calms down in unison. She looks the people round her in the eyes with spontaneous empathy. Playback begins. She hints at round movements in the shimmering orange of the sunset, on the riverside of the magnificent city. The lips scan mute words on silent music. The audience seriously shares a subtle and airy enthusiasm. Her beauty is cheerful, fed by semi-vegetals, mineral waters, yoga and to bed early. Her beauty is deep, her game superficial. I enjoyed meeting Madonna. I was surprised to see Madonna. In the post reality, she is post herself……

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DIFFICULT TO GET USED TO MINERAL WATER AGAIN The pink and white girl begs for money from customers in the market. She approaches people, smiles, speaks softly, smiling, cutely. As she realizes that she will get nothing from one, she snaps like a spring at someone else without turning back. Somehow, without really being so, it turns out to be an aggressive behavior. Actually, the people who used to walk with their eyes on the ground now talk to each other. The greengrocer takes her by the horns, pounces on her, makes her go backwards. She goes back but does not make a turn.

[/vc_column_text][/vc_column_inner][/vc_row_inner][vc_row_inner vertical_align="middle"][vc_column_inner width="1/1"][vc_column_text align="left"]CHORUS :
we love, we love
The happiness of all
Happiness is everyone’s

We love!
One day we’ll have such strong arms.
We love!
One day we’re gonna dance through all these lies.
We love!
One day we won’t be too far away anymore.
We love!
I love you
We love!

The words are small
Words are few but ours
we believe, we trust, we want, we love.
we are not afraid of the disco,
we love...[/vc_column_text][/vc_column_inner][/vc_row_inner][vc_row_inner vertical_align="middle"][vc_column_inner width="1/1"][vc_column_text align="left"]BEAUTY IS ANOTHER THING :
I’m looking for someone to read what I write.
looking for someone to write what I say: dictated.
looking for someone to tell me what to write.
looking for someone who believes in what I write.

right with the paper, the written letters.
I’m looking for someone who reads what I write, who says to me to understand the sense of what I write, lying and then tells in public completely wrong things about the content of what I wrote.
looking for someone who pretends to read what I wrote.
I’m looking for someone to mistranslate what I write.
looking for someone who misinterprets what I write.
looking for someone who misinterprets what I write.
I’m looking for someone who disputes everything I write.
I’m looking for someone who disputes everything I write.
I’m looking for someone who loves what I write.
looking for someone who publishes what I write as anthology.
looking for someone who asks me to write what I wrote again.
I’m looking for someone who could copy everything I’ve written, who could turn my writing into a best seller signed by him/her, whom I could then sue for plagiarism and get a lot of money once I win the case.

looking for somebody who wants to declaim what I write.
looking for someone who wants to practice what I write.
looking for somebody to stop me from writing what I write.
looking for someone who dreams about what I write.
I’m looking for someone who whispers in someone else’s ears what I write.
looking for someone who draws what I write.
I’m looking for someone to organize everything I’ve written with his personal rules.
I’m looking for someone, and it doesn’t matter that this someone is not the same person who does every action with my writing.
It’s also okay to have a different someone for each or some of those actions.
So I’m looking for a minimum of 1 someone up to 24 someone, thank you
Are the signs rewritable traces stretched towards what?
The lashes are antennas. We’re full of filaments, antennas aimed outwards, are they used to send and receive signals?
Is that why I think of the signs? Is that why we read everything?[/vc_column_text][/vc_column_inner][/vc_row_inner][vc_row_inner vertical_align="middle"][vc_column_inner width="1/1"][vc_column_text align="left"]PERRO-GIRLS :
In front of the market.
She shows the sobbing running of the vertebrae under the skin of the naked back.
Enchantress of the spines.
The marketplace is a ship she’s attached to with her arm in a cast that she’s stuck in the grating of the entrance gate, open.
Clutches in the other hand a leash that anchors her to her raft: the perro.
Tanned skin, empty bottles.
She gives her back to the food of the market, to all the bocadillos de hamon, to the multicoloured people who float in a single noise that doesn’t cover her crying.

Perro-Girl scare away all troubles, muses of my eyes- Goddesses of diagonals and traverses- Navigators of blind alleys- Madonnas of the steps- Perro-Girl with laces and chains hooked to this earth like satellites- coming directly from the cosmos- Perro-Girls – marked with decisive fringes, the decisional aspect of the roads-
Perro-Girl of abstract black- swiping liquid glare
Save everyone with basin and knees

They save everyone, they’re effective
Save us all Girls who really do save[/vc_column_text][/vc_column_inner][/vc_row_inner][/vc_column][/vc_row][vc_row bg_color=""][vc_column width="1/1"][ish_headline tag_size="h2"]

Something in your Mind?
Write me!

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