Sunday

(Musica: Edwood; Testi: Fabio Campetti)

The lighting disappears
In a night of beauty and beer
I wanna be a star
I wanna go so far
On Sunday
Today is Sunday
Like insects fly, occupy the air
Like self-esteem, like a win of match
And fingertips knock my door in the afternoon
I wait for the night, for the mellow lips of a song
For the charming beauty of the winter time
Of the breeze, of a cold light
Please close your eyes and wipe your tears
It's Sunday