Come faceva freddo
Le finestre non sono tutte uguali
Anche le porte hanno un'anima
Sentire sempre le stesse cose
Purtroppo due vite noiose
Lui invece ogni giorno era nuovo
È lui la cosa che ho persa
Apriva una porta sei piani di scale
Ogni giorno una cosa diversa
Come faceva freddo
Com'era bello che lui fosse lì
Lui mi guardava
Come faceva freddo
Come faceva freddo
Com'era bello che io fosse lì
Lui mi stringeva
Come faceva freddo
Anche le finestre avevano un cuore
C'era una porta che faceva rumore
E mentre lui moriva d'inedia
Lo scongiuravo dall'unica sedia
Come faceva freddo
Com'era bello che lui fosse lì
Apro una porta sei piani di scale
Ci sono i suoi quadri ma lui non c'è più
Come faceva freddo
Com'era bello che lui fosse lì
Lui mi guardava
Come, come faceva freddo
Anche le finestre avevano un cuore
C'era una porta che faceva rumore
E mentre lui moriva d'inedia
Io lo scongiuravo dall'unica sedia
Come faceva freddo
Com'era bello che lui fosse lì
Apro una porta sei piani di scale
Ci sono i suoi quadri ma lui non c'è più
Come faceva freddo
Come faceva freddo
Lui mi guardava
Come faceva freddo
How Cold It Was
The windows aren’t all the same
Even the doors have a soul
Always feeling the same things
Unfortunately, two boring lives
But he was new every single day
He’s the thing I lost
Opened a door six flights up
Every day something different
How cold it was
How beautiful it was that he was there
He looked at me
How cold it was
How cold it was
How beautiful it was that I was there
He held me tight
How cold it was
Even the windows had a heart
There was a door that made noise
And while he was dying of boredom
I begged him from the only chair
How cold it was
How beautiful it was that he was there
I open a door six flights up
His paintings are there but he’s gone
How cold it was
How beautiful it was that he was there
He looked at me
How, how cold it was
Even the windows had a heart
There was a door that made noise
And while he was dying of boredom
I begged him from the only chair
How cold it was
How beautiful it was that he was there
I open a door six flights up
His paintings are there but he’s gone
How cold it was
How cold it was
He looked at me
How cold it was
Escrita por: Gianni Marchetti / Piero Ciampi / Pino Pavone