Spaghetti, tomato sauce
In the northern suburb of Dijon
I chose the diplomatic way
That kept me out of prison
I've been hiding for 20 years
And I thought I'd live way less
The protection of a witness
I could've been busting rocks
At the Texas penitentiary
But I end up on beer
In a way less classy PMU
Every night they fill my glass
And we laugh, they trash me
When I tell my glass tricks
Mafioso down to my fingertips
I've become the local drunk
While my uncle's henchmen
Hunt Tony-two-fists
In the first months of my hideout
I thought my life would be the same
By recreating what I miss
I helped a few acquaintances
With their neighborhood feuds
Two or three bodies soaked in gas
A few domestic accidents
Mafioso down to my fingertips
I've become the local drunk
While my uncle's henchmen
Hunt Tony-two-fists
When my little neighbors, brothers and sisters
Showed me their report cards
I'd meet their teacher
And collect a few baby teeth
But now I'm too old
I look after my hydrangeas
It's strange how they grow better
What on earth did I bury there?
In the bushes, something moves
I spot a sniper's shadow
On my chest a red light
I expected you, I'm not scared
Lay me down on my bed
On my heart a hydrangea bloom
I'm gonna see Stromboli again
I'm gonna forget the Mafia