Fuori: il cielo si è deciso a scrostare via le brutture di Napoli dai muri con la forza di una lancia da autolavaggio.
Dentro: da qualche parte, sotto un tetto, in qualche modo, non si sa come, si torna. A casa.
Home
Here is a song
From the wrong side of town
Where I’m bound
to the ground
by the loneliest sound
that pounds from within
and is pinning me down…
Here is a page
from the empiest stage
A cage or the heaviest cross ever made
A gauge of the deadliest trap ever laid…
… And I thank you
for bringing me here
for showing me home
for singing these tears
Finally I’ve found
that I belong… here.
The heat and the sickliest
sweet smelling sheets
that cling to the back of my knees
and my feet
But I’m drowning in time
to a desperate beat…
… And I thank you
for bringing me here
for showing me home
for singing these tears
Finally I’ve found
that I belong…
… Feels like home
I should have known
from my first breath…
(…)
… And I thank you
for bringing me here
for showing me home
for singing these tears
Finally I’ve found that I belong… here.
[M. L. Gore, Home, 1997]