Graffio translates to "scratch" or "gash". It's a vivid and somewhat raw word that stands out from everyday vocabulary.
In the song, Loredana Bertè sings, "Lo senti il graffio lungo la tua schiena? Era per dirti che ci sono ancora." (Do you feel the scratch along your back? It was to tell you that I'm still here.) This powerful imagery suggests a lasting impact, a mark left behind, and a defiant declaration of her continued presence and resilience.
Figlia Di... is Loredana Bertè’s fiery autobiography wrapped in rock attitude. From the very first line she declares that she is both “the father of my caresses” and “the mother of my experiences,” making it clear that every scar, success, and caress comes from her own hand. Repeating her name like a rallying cry, Bertè flips the Italian expression figlia di (usually hinting at privilege) into a badge of self-made pride: she is a daughter only of herself, fuelled by a notoriety she earned through resilience, provocation, and boundless creativity.
The lyrics swing between tenderness and claws-out defiance. Love feels like a fistfight, envy turns into sympathy, and she rules her pack of “hyenas” as both “slave and sovereign.” When critics judge her path, she dares them to try walking in her high heels. In short, the song is a bold manifesto of independence, inviting listeners to embrace their contradictions, own their history, and keep roaring, scratches and all.