LYRICS GAME

Fill in the lyric gaps as you listen to the song

Sempione Park

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Green and brown

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Inside my city

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I set it on vibrate

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I read a nice book

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I'm trying to relax a bit

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All of a sudden

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Without warning

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You hear a pim pam pum

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A hippie

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Maybe stoned

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Keeps playing and won't stop

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This thing upsets me

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Because he plays like sh*t

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He's got no sense of rhythm

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And I don't read the book anymore

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I'm almost getting up

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I go ask him why

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He decided that, f*ck

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On this very day

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Nothing's gonna stop him

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Cut it out with those bongos

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We're not in Africa

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You wear your hair long

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But you need practice!

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You're always off beat

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Like this you kill Africa

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Which may have lots of problems

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But definitely not the rhythm one

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'Come on, bum, try to play better

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'Cause I'm trying to make my feet dance!

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Even if I'm eighty years old

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I still go dance at the hall with my old lady

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Hey, what a pain in the balls

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You're splitting my ear

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You, your flip-flops and your bongos!'

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Dear sir

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You know what?

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This is freedom

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I'm high

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I play badly

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Even if you don't like it

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I'm off beat

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I've known it for a long time

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It's nothing new

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I don't give a f*ck

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I score like crazy

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Thanks to my pim pum pam

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This thing upsets me

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And I feel like sh*t

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Maybe I'll sit down

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And listen a bit better

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Maybe I'm wrong

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Maybe I got it wrong

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Maybe my d*ck

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You suck

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That's the truth

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Now I'll bust your bongos

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To avenge Africa

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The one that cooked

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The explorer in the pot

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You dress like a rasta

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But that's not enough

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You may have no problems

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But you sure have one with rhythm

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Hey

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I'll smack a fish up your a*s!

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Go catch rats!

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You can only sell your own chocolate!

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Here's the explanation

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Of what happens

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In every city

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I play the bongos

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You smash them

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At this rate

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Where will we end up?

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That's why somebody

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Thinks it's easier

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To raze a forest

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Considered useless

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Stuff like this

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Has never been seen in Africa

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Which may have lots of problems

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But for sure not the forest one

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I'd like to play the bongos

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As if I were in Africa

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Under the dwarf oak

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In the Porta Genova area

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Sixteen thousand signatures

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No food for Rocco Tanica

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But they razed that woods

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While people were away for the long weekend

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They didn't give a f*ck

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Now they're putting up a building

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They destroyed the Gioia woods

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Those huge sons of b*tches