Ci ripenso (alla ninnananna)


Well, there’s a piece of Maria in every song that I sing
And the price of a memory is the memory of the sorrow it brings
And there is always one last light to turn out and one last bell to ring
And the last one out of the circus has to lock up everything
or the elephants will get out and forget to remember what you said
And the ghosts of the tilt-a-whirl will linger inside of your head
And the ferris wheel junkies will spin them forever instead.
When I see you a blanket of stars covers me in my bed.

Hey… Mrs. … Potter… don’t go
Hey… Mrs. … Potter… I don’t know
but, hey… Mrs. … Potter… won’t you talk to me?

All the blue light reflections that color my mind when I sleep
And the lovesick rejections that accompany the company I keep
All the razor perceptions that cut just a little too deep
Hey I can bleed as well as anyone, but I need someone to help me sleep.

So I throw my hand into the air and it swims in the beams
It’s just a brief interruption of the swirling dust sparkle jet stream
Well, I know I don’t know you and you’re probably not what you seem,
but I’d sure like to find out, so why don’t you climb down off that movie screen?

Hey… Mrs. … Potter… don’t turn
Hey… Mrs. … Potter… I burn for you
Hey… Mrs. … Potter… won’t you talk to me?


[A. Duritz, Mrs. Potters Lullaby, 1999]

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