Tagliagole literally translates to "cutthroats" or "throat-cutters". It's a vivid and somewhat intense word that isn't commonly found in everyday conversation or many pop songs.
In the context of Ligabue's song, it's used to contrast with "Santi subito" (saints immediately), highlighting the stark realities and extremes of life. The line "Sui Santi subito e sui tagliagole" suggests that the sun shines on everyone, from the most virtuous to the most dangerous, painting a picture of a world full of both good and evil.
Ligabue sets two people at a window looking at the same view and seeing different things. He sees "fumo sulle macerie" (smoke on the rubble); she looks at the same spot and smiles. Instead of arguing, he asks to borrow her way of seeing: "Prestami i tuoi occhi ancora" (lend me your eyes again), admitting he is the one who stares at the finger while she looks at the moon.
The answer is a road trip. "Dai che allora andiamo al mare" (come on, then let's go to the sea), he says, with her looking out of the window because she is still the best at it. The chorus lists what the journey needs: "pane e fortuna" (bread and luck), "vino e coraggio" (wine and courage) and, above all, "buoni compagni di viaggio" (good travel companions). The lights of America and the stars over Africa stand for the wonder still out there, and the song ends by placing it "fra distruzione e meraviglia" (between destruction and wonder), visible only "da sveglio" (when awake).