Can’t let ME go,

not after this all.

I can run away,

But I still want to do things, my way.

I can’t let this go,

not for her,

but for me.

We’ll see what happens after,

along with all the things,

I’ve tried to cover…

I’m the Jester.


Original version here:


Everyone needs something:

someone needs to let themselves die,

someone needs to disappear,

someone needs a rematch,

of a second chance,

to make it, where he had failed.

There is someone who needs this, not to give up,

not to let go.

Everyone has a war to end,

a dream to come true,

going against everything and everyone.

Someone needs not to give up,

however much pain it may bring.

And I’m sick,

I don’t say it, saying that so I don’t worry,

But the truth is I don’t want anyone to break my balls

telling me that being sick is wrong …

What the fuck do you want?

My life is ruined.

Then I am taken ill regardless …

I have experienced the taste of nostalgia,

feel bad at home,

that when you are away …

Not being able to make a final choice,

on where to live.

Hope does not abandon me, it is a slow dying of obstinate survival.

I have nothing else …

And this is my story, on the one hand.


Italian version here:

It’s easier to say any cliché,

rather than address the problem.

It is easier to tell someone “absolute truths”,

rather than helping him and directing him towards him.

It is easier to say “patently wrong”,

rather than trying to put yourself in the shoes and in the heart of the other.

It is easier to try to impose general rules,

rather than understanding that every man has the characteristics of him.

Don’t tell me you’re “on my side”,

if you don’t even answer when I need to,

because then one remains alone:

consequently they need only themselves.

Don’t tell me you’re “on my side”,

if you think whatever I do is wrong,

only from your point of view.

Because making someone think that they are unsuitable doesn’t help them,

annihilates him.

It is easier to be strict than to meet others.

It’s easier.

It’s easier to tell two people that they will never understand each other,

rather than direct them towards a communion,

it is easier to divide and destroy.

It’s easier to pretend …

It is easier to cut than to understand feelings and emotions.

It is easier to try to conform to others when we know very well, after all,

that we are all different and we all make us sick.

And then … Here I am again.

Closed in my fortress,

to understand many things …

to feel more and more alone.

Because no one is like me …