The dolphins go to dance on beaches
The elephants go to dance in unknown boneyards
The clouds go to dance at the horizon
The trains go to dance in museums with entry fees
And you, where do you go to dance?
Come to dance in Puglia, Puglia, Puglia
I'm shaking like a leaf, leaf, leaf
keep your head up when you pass near the crane
because it may happen that it breaks and it falls down
Hey tourist I know you're staying in this Italian place
be careful you cross the (mountain) pass
but this land it's gonna send you to the mental asy-
-lum, sea Adriatic and Ionian, you may sniff the Iodium
but here in the gulf it smells of Sulfur
'cause the Devil is coming
Killer tan, with the toxins of Ilva
here they become, here, redder than Milva
and after you look like La pimpa
In this zone they peddle the best death
There's who smoked Eni's poisons (a gas company)
there's who worked and fell in coma
Even the Gargano is smoking with all those lit forests
tourist you dance and sing I count the death in this country
where those smartasses that run companies,
no, they don't look at expenses
they tink the Kyoto's protocol
is a Japanese erotic movie
Come to dance in Puglia, Puglia, Puglia
where the night is dark, dark, dark
so much that you close your eyes
and you don't open them anymore
Come to dance and scratch your balls, you too
that... must to come dance in Puglia, Puglia, Puglia
I'm shaking like a leaf, leaf, leaf
keep your head up when you pass near the crane
because it may happen that it breaks and it falls down
It's true here we party but people is depressed and drained
I've a friend that to suicide had to get hired in a factory
Between a pole that falls and a pipe that bursts
in that Bolgia who slaves away dies
and who doesn't die buys some stuff
and gets wasted until they encumber the tomb
Come to dance, comrade, in the tomato fields
where mafia enslaves the workers
and if you rebel you're out
Romanians packed in the nooks
like peeled tomatoes in cans
forced to suffer the blackmail
of big men, as big as confetti
tourist keep on you sandals
don't make any scandals
If we're ungrateful and we forgot
we are children of emigrates
we're mortified. We won't ruin your vacation
Come on! Go to visit Puglia
Go to the afterlife
Come to dance in Puglia, Puglia, Puglia
where the night is dark, dark, dark
so much that you close your eyes
and you never open them anymore
Come to dance and scratch your balls, you too
that... must to come dance in Puglia, Puglia, Puglia
where it's wating for you the executioner, executioner, executioner,
At the street corners more swords than King Arthur
a chasms opens and you go straight to Beelzebub
Oh, Puglia, my Puglia, you, my Puglia
I always carry you in my heart when I go away
and I immediately think that I could die without you
and I immediately think that I could die with you too
[NO PUGLIESE PERSON HAS BEEN HURT DURING
THE PRODUCTION OF THIS VIDEO]