Es Canons de Navarone
Retumben a les fosques es canons de navarone,
Despatxa cara a cara vito corleone,
Ell dóna sa vida i no la regala, però,
És sa llei ancestral de sicília, lo dolent i lo bo.
Ells se dibuixaven sa ruta
A una zona tosca i difícil,
Homes que se feien preguntes.
Això era un serrant una post,
Se feia sa casa sencera ell tot sol.
Túnels, coliseus, gasoductes,
Gent subordinant es planeta,
Homes que se feien preguntes.
(contrallums a llevant)
Aiguamolls a terres lapones,
Plànols, tiralínies i lupes,
Cuirassats a fleixos de bombes.
Això era un clavant una post,
Se feia sa casa de fusta de nord.
Fondejant a dins sa badia
Un vaixell contàiner de guerra,
Ja comença a fer-se de dia.
(contrallums a llevant)
S'horitzó d'anit va ser lila
I la mar una fulla de plata
Que se feia grossa i petita.
(contrallums a llevant)
Fondejant a dins sa badia
Un vaixell contàiner de guerra,
Ja comença a fer-se de dia.
Retumben a les fosques es canons de navarone,
Despatxa cara a cara vito corleone,
Ell dóna sa vida i no la regala, però,
És sa llei ancestral de sicília, lo dolent i lo bo.
The Cannons of Navarone
Echo in the darkness the cannons of Navarone,
Dispatch face to face Vito Corleone,
He gives his life and doesn't give it away, but,
It's the ancestral law of Sicily, the bad and the good.
They drew the route,
To a rough and tough area,
Men who asked questions.
This was a carving a post,
He built the whole house by himself.
Tunnels, coliseums, pipelines,
People subjugating the planet,
Men who asked questions.
(Backlight to the east)
Marshes in Lapland lands,
Maps, rulers, and magnifying glasses,
Battleships with bomb arrows.
This was a nailing a post,
He built the wooden house from the north.
Anchoring inside the bay,
A war container ship,
The day begins.
(Backlight to the east)
Last night's horizon was purple,
And the sea a silver leaf
That grew big and small.
(Backlight to the east)
Anchoring inside the bay,
A war container ship,
The day begins.
Echo in the darkness the cannons of Navarone,
Dispatch face to face Vito Corleone,
He gives his life and doesn't give it away, but,
It's the ancestral law of Sicily, the bad and the good.