My country, which is on that hill
spread out like a sleeping old man
the boredom, the desertion, the nothing are your illness
my country, I'm leaving you, I'm going away
What will it be? what will it be? what will it be?
what will it be of my life, who knows...
I know how to do everything, or maybe not, we'll see it from tomorrow on
and it will be, will be that which has to be
Almost all my friends have left
and the other ones will go after me
what a shame! I used to enjoy their company
but everything finishes, everything goes
Che sarà della mia vita chi lo sa.
I take my guitar with me, and if I cry at night
I'll play a lullaby from my country
My love, I kiss you on the lips
which were the source of my first love
we have an appointment, where and when... I don't know
but I know I will come back