Alluccà is a Neapolitan dialect word meaning "to scream" or "to shout". While the standard Italian word is "urlare", "alluccà" carries a more raw and passionate connotation, deeply rooted in the regional culture.
In the song, the artist sings, "Però tengo 'a forza d'alluccà" (But I have the strength to scream). This word choice emphasizes the intensity of his emotions and his desperate need to express himself, even when words fail him. It's a powerful and evocative term that adds a unique flavor to the lyrics.
It opens with him holding up a phone: "Miettete in posa, 'stu viento te tocca, te faccio 'na foto" (Pose for me, the wind's on you, I'll take a pic). By the chorus the picture is gone and so is she: "Nn'ce sta nemmeno 'na fotografia" (There isn't even a photo). That is the problem Geolier keeps circling. He has no proof any of it happened, so the only thing left to make is the song itself: "E ancora l'aggi''a fà 'na canzone pe t'arricurdà" (And I still need to write a song to remind you).
Then he turns the photo around and it stops being a keepsake. "Pe'tté so' sulo 'na fotografia" (To you I'm just a photo) is the line the whole thing was built toward, and he follows it with a small nasty question: "Si, quanno 'a straccio, lieve addò stongo i'?" (If I rip it up, will it drift to where I am?). The details in between are what make it land. The two of them going quiet on purpose, "Nuje ce mettimmo offline, pe nun rispunnere a nisciuno" (We go offline just so we won't answer anybody). The admission at the end that the weather was never the problem: "Però 'o sole ce steva / Ero i' ca nn''o vedevo" (But the sun was there / I was the one who couldn't see it). He sings all of it in Neapolitan, which is why the words on the page look so little like the Italian you have been studying.