Translation of the song: "Se scoppia la guerra" by Giorgio Faletti

warning: the song is in Italian

T'was only us, alone as always
maybe 'cause our age, four in an apple
Marco, Beppe, Franco and God
God later left, what happens then
if a war breaks tomorrow morning, but nobody goes fight?

From Outta Here road exited
the imaginary fanfare,
that doesn't bang on drums,
that whiffs into nothing;
and it played to useless people
the non-existent hymn,
the one to sing
if a war breaks tomorrow morning, but nobody goes fight

The king is dead, long live the king
his son is left, with silence in his briefs
and honey on his eyelashes.
The roar when the movie starts
he can do it well,
and he doesn't harass the weaks
when it pays off to him
The swords' dance is danced in the white 
streets of afterlife

Long live the new king, and his colored dreams
finally a real train, finally new soldiers
and with two of the old nightmares
they play doctor, tossing up the soul
when the patient dies.
Heroes are all dead, except in the discussions
that normally are done by who remained here

T'was only us, twenty or more millions,
tired of being gods, with patches on our trousers
and run down rapids, closed in a barrel
everybody screaming
that a war breaks tomorrow morning but nobody goes fight
that a war breaks tomorrow morning but nobody goes fight

The mother forgave the courage of her sons,
that had the loyalty of feeling chickens
they made a classic gesture, tipical Italian
bending their harms at an angle, supporting it with one hand
To whom said to go, to whom acted like vates
they answered then: "Go yourself if you like.
Go yourself if you like, if you'll feel better.
go yourself if you like, I'm not getting up at dawn
if a war breaks tomorrow morning, but nobody goes fight
if a war breaks tomorrow morning, but nobody goes fight
if a war breaks tomorrow morning, but nobody goes fight"