This is a true story.
Everyone knows how it started.
But no one knows how it will end.
On the day of August,
at Flaon,
my grandfather Marinocchet left home.
My grandmother was six years old.
He arranged everything under the bed.
The sailors broke him shut,
but all he surrendered was a champagne in his pocket.
It was very bright outside,
as if the blue sky was blooming,
but it soon faded.
The monster?
I'm hungry.
Yes,
Marino,
let's make a story with the Bissell Pom.
The devil has planted the apples,
and he asked me to bring him the Valdenope Armarella.
What's in it, kid?
I'm hungry.
Yes, Marino, it's a saint, it's good like bread.
You've worked all your life for the Innis,
and then there's the champagne,
and the 62 in front of you,
and every bot that the cashfather is working on,
if you don't know the saint...
What's the verse then?
Give me a hand with this stuff,
there's a lot of apples to count.
Listen.
I'm going to be a good boy.
I'm going to be a good boy.
I'm going to be a good boy.
I'm going to be a good boy.
I'm going to be a good boy.
Gamma
Vardela ci capponta che me serviva
Vardela ci capponta che me serviva
Vardela ci capponta che me serviva
Vardela ci capponta che me serviva
Vardela ci capponta che me serviva
uh
Bless youunder twitch
Bardella, Bardella, Bardella-C!
Caponte che me serviva!
Bardella-C!
Caponte che me serviva!
Bardella, Bardella,
Bardella-C!