Duecentomila Ore Lyrics in English Ana Mena

Below, I translated the lyrics of the song Duecentomila Ore by Ana Mena from Italian to English.
These lyrics have verified word for word translations. Click any lyric word to see the translation and hear the pronunciation!
Alone I'll wait for you
At dinner alone
In the smoke of a thousand words
Of timeless songs
Your taste on my skin
Doesn't move
We're good at keeping on
Hurting each other
I wasn't looking for a street guy
Then you distracted me
Selling me another lie
When the night comes
Loves me loves me not, a flower
Latin America
A Cuba Libre, love
When the night comes
Two hundred thousand hours
Loving each other an hour earlier
And then letting go
It's another evening
That's gone
It's this wait
That's desperate
It's the cold air
Of a day
In such a rush
Forgotten
When the night comes
Loves me loves me not, a flower
Latin America
A Cuba Libre, love
When the night comes
Two hundred thousand hours
Loving each other an hour earlier
And then letting go
When the night comes
Two hundred thousand hours
Loving each other an hour earlier
And then letting go
Lyrics and Translations Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
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SONG MEANING

Picture yourself in a smoky twilight bar, old songs crackling through the speakers and the scent of a Cuba libre in the air. That is where Ana Mena’s "Duecentomila Ore" begins: a young woman sits alone at dinner, replaying every sweet taste and sharp sting of a love that keeps slipping through her fingers. She did not plan to fall for a "ragazzo di strada," yet his easy lies and electric charm pulled her in. Now, as night falls, she flips the fragile petals of a mental “m’ama non m’ama” daisy, wondering if tonight will bring passion or disappointment.

The title means 200,000 hours – a playful exaggeration of how long longing can feel when you keep circling the same love-and-leave routine. Each chorus hits like a burst of Latin pop energy: they meet, they burn brightly for a single, stolen hour, then darkness sweeps in and the waiting starts all over again. Beneath the dance-floor sparkle is a bittersweet truth: sometimes the hottest romances are also the most fleeting, and the only thing that lasts is the echo of the music and the clock that just won’t stop ticking.

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