Cerotti Lyrics in English Tiromancino

Below, I translated the lyrics of the song Cerotti by Tiromancino from Italian to English.
These lyrics have verified word for word translations. Click any lyric word to see the translation and hear the pronunciation!
The night bleeds between my hands
You stay
Pack your bags, go away tomorrow
And you tell me no
There's no going back
And I believe it
And when you were hurting how I ran, ooh
Four in the morning, short of breath
I don't fly over this city anymore
The streets, the houses and your records in the car
You don't live in this city anymore
The nights are only band-aids on the soul
While I lose myself in your hands
You vanish
The room is full of pretty lines
And you tell me no
There's no going back
And I don't believe it
But when you were hurting how I ran, ooh
Four in the morning and a broken heart
I don't fly over this city anymore
The streets, the houses and your records in the car
You don't live in this city anymore
The nights are only band-aids on the soul
Maybe now we're just two crumbs on the couch
While you throw me far away
You also throw away a bit of yourself
I don't fly over this city anymore
The streets, the houses and your records in the car
You don't live in this city anymore
The nights are only band-aids on the soul
The nights are only band-aids on the soul
The nights are only band-aids on the soul
Lyrics and Translations Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Federico Zampaglione, Flavio Pardini
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SONG MEANING

Cerotti – literally “band-aids” – invites us into a sleepless Italian night where love is hurt, hurried, and halfway healed. The narrator is watching a partner pack up and leave, replaying frantic memories of 4 a.m. hospital dashes and breathless worry. Every familiar corner of the city, from the streets to the records left in the car, now feels haunted. The couple cannot “go back,” and that realization throbs like an open wound.

Yet Tiromancino wraps this heartbreak in a bittersweet insight: nighttime becomes a temporary remedy, a strip of gauze over the soul. Those long hours do not fix anything, but they let the hurt breathe until morning. Cerotti is therefore a tender anthem for anyone who has ever tried to patch up love with late-night drives, whispered promises, and the fragile hope that distance might finally let the heart start to heal.

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