Maybe we can change it, but it's the only one there is,

this life of rags and smiles, and half words

If it was hundred years or two hundreds, it'd be a fleeting moment.

If it was just a moment, it'd be like it is.

Everybody dressed of wind, pursuing each other in the sun

Everybody tied to a string, that we don't know where is.

F*ck, Lieutenant, sir, when we got out from HQ

and in constant radio contact we took the county road

and at km #41, near the "Cantoniera" house

we hid our car good, so they could see it wasn't there

and we mounted the speed trap, and we fined mercilessy

whoever passed over 50, even if those 50 were the age

and we caught one without the license

Fu*k, Lieutenant, sir, it was so hot we were burning

The county road was like an oven, the asphalt was trembling

and blurred the entire background

And it was there, all sweaty, that we came to know of that bad story

of those guys dead, killed, thrown in the air like a rug

fallen on the ground like people torn to shreds by explosives

that if not used for good things can become so evil

that after almost nothing is left

F*ck, Lieutenant, sir, we are here with these uniforms

that often feel very tight, especially when they get ridiculed

by low quality jokes; and we're tired of enduring

what happens in this country, where we have to let us get killed

for a bit more than a million per month (around 580$)

And there's a thing, here in my throath

one that we really can't swallow down

and it's impossible to gulp it, if whoever kills us

gets more money than good people do.

F*ck, Lieutenant, sir, I know I'm speaking with the commander

but how much time will need to pass, us seated on a patrol car

the voice on the radio making us tremble

because we have a lot of courage, but here's becoming harder and harder

when we have to go face to face, with the courage of fear

And that's what's happening now, but then if there's an emergency call

We get up and go anyway. And sorry if that's no big deal.

Fu*k, Lieutenant, sir, so if you think I'm still 20

I think you wouldn't say I'm wrong, if you can walk in my shoes

maybe you won't report me, and I say that sincerely

F*ck, Lieutenant, sir!