01-THE STAGE
Sit in my chair the music on I’m waiting for someone on the stage
Looking around a lot of people there is waiting for someone like ….
Mocking my time, wayfarers on, pretending people can’t see me.
I’m wondering why those voices call my name and I’m feeling like melting away.
It’s you …you…you, …the stage is waiting for you
And I can’t believe it but they’re really meaning me
And I can’t believe it who they want on the stage is me
And I won’t believe it they’re giving the floor to me.
It’s you……..you…..…you…..…the stage is waiting for you
I stand up and start walking down the aisle throwing my glasses away
I’m facing myself and I won’t let the shame turn into carpets of blame.
It’s me …me…me, …they’re waiting right for me
And I must believe it they’re really pushing me
And I must believe it the man on the stage is me
And I must believe it they’re giving the chance to me.
Words and music by Paolo Giorgi © S.I.A.E. 2007
02-AT THE WRONG TIME
I would have liked to write my best song for you and me.
But now you're gone and I'm a wood without a tree.
Think I'm going to find out what I've lost,
And I'll sing this song about this frost, saying to myself I want to...
To play my part a little smarter, and give my heart a little slower
So, if and when I had to lose again I won't have to tell my endless tale
For no other man will have to blame me.
Well, I don't care what you're doing right now,
‘Cause I don't want to lose the game against my pride.
But you could see the sun that won't shine anyhow
If you ever had to call me at the wrong time.
Many days I walked alone without a helping voice
But I don't want to make the same mistake twice.
And many days I walk around the phone, and I wish you could hear my sad moan,
But I don't know where your mind is going to roam, now.
Words and music by Paolo Giorgi © S.I.A.E. 1990-2004 Published by CLASSICA NOVA Edizioni Musicali
03-HUNGER IN THE CHEST
I cannot believe you wasting your time staring at what’s going on in our minds
You gave us the rules and we’re free to decide not to chase in the dark what’s clear in the light.
I think we all have really misunderstood the meaning of life as bad as we could
We’re much too distracted defending our own rights and we often forget to come out of the night.
And there is a hunger here in the middle of my chest
Something that makes me want to stop for a rest.
Something that money will never feed, at last
It’s maybe the need to give more than I can.
We’re taught to compete, to curse and to beat, we’re losing the taste and the nature of things
There’s always somebody standing by your side who’s waiting to shoot you whenever in sight.
And there is a hunger here in the middle of my chest
Something that makes me want to stop for a rest.
Something that money will never feed, at last
It’s maybe the feeling to do more than I can.
You’re locked in a cage and your Bible is written by saviours in stores
You’re losing the way and you won’t find the keys to get out ever more.
Money can’t buy what a mind doesn’t want to perceive
Colors don’t shine where flowers can’t meet the light
Poetry will die when the heart wind’s high and dry
I can’t understand how men are still scared to be free
Words and music by Paolo Giorgi © S.I.A.E. 2006-2009
04-A KNIFE TO CUT MY PAIN
Everybody laughs when I'm driving in my car because I sing along with my radio.
Everyone keeps thinking that I'm a crazy guy and that's the reason why I smile at them inside.
I feel a storm about my brain, what a heavy rain!
And sometimes the only way's to sing so loud that
I can forget the world around for an endless while
To let you know how much I care.
Your eyes are like a sunny day, Your mind a rope to catch my brains,
Your hair a net to block my hands and your words, ooh, your words a knife to cut my pain.
Needed to walk around in this thoughtful park and it worked out fine, I wrote this song.
Don't know if it can explain what I feel about this amazing way we've found for things to say.
When your eyes can understand what a frown can say
And a simple hidden word's enough to hold your hands,
Let me tell you that the truth is in the middle of a sentence hidden out in the green of a video.
Words and music by Paolo Giorgi © S.I.A.E. 1992-2004 Published by CLASSICA NOVA Edizioni Musicali
05-MAN IN THE MIRROR
I've seen in the mirror the man's face again, he told me to carefully look in the glass.
He looked like a stranger, in his stare was the emptiness,
He said: "How do you feel playing this game?"
Said: "Son, that's a man's life, it looks like a song, the more you play the more you love it.
But just when you feel in your heart to sing it along
There'll always be someone who changes your song."
It looked like my face when I'll be an old man, white hair flowed around his head.
His face disappeared and came there again, I was playing that game with nothing to say.
I've tried to touch him with my hands on the mirror, but as I got closer he got closer too.
When I just tipped the glass he had to stop my hands,
Said: "Don't you try to know more than you can.
You have to respect me the way I'm respecting you and follow the words that I'm gonna tell.
You'll always decide all the times you can meet me, but you will never know where I've been before."
It's hard to believe he was in a mirror, white hair flowed around his head.
And I didn't know who was the man, I was playing that game with nothing to say,
I had just nothing to say, no, no, nothing to say, no, no, nothing to say.
Words and music by Paolo Giorgi © S.I.A.E. 1990
06-GOING PLACES WITH DAD (Click to view clip)
Sudden scene: Central Park, Madison Avenue in the dark
A friendly New York opened up its own heart for me and you walking and talking.
Building up history to share in this world, disclosures of lifetimes belonging to old time sand.
You started dropping out photographs of your life
Just like in front of the Statue of Liberty, conceiving that freedom is only a dream
Easy to feel but so hard to foresee, freedom is your eyes covered with drops of joy.
Who is the father? Who is the son? Memories of my hand in your hand
Pretending to be lonesome in a dream land, playing new American lives.
Wall Street and T.V. shows, dinner at Modern Art
Looking at city lights from top of Empire "-Why don't we look for a taxi to hire?"
"-I want to go backwards all on my own, I like to pretend to be lonely in old New York."
I wonder if we'll get a second chance to be father and son in some lives again
Well, if I could choose I ain't got any doubt I'd learn how to live from your mouth.
Words and music by Paolo Giorgi © S.I.A.E. 2007
07-THE POSTMAN
I’m walking up and down, rain or shine, no one else around for miles and miles
But I don’t feel alone, on my own.
I work everyday carrying this mail on the mountain trails.
Some will read the news with hope and joy, children have their share with Christmas toys
Some will not reply ‘cause words have cut his voice
And I cannot read nor even write, but I don’t have no choice.
Fields of green and trees climbing up hills and rocks and peaks
Breathing upper winds smelling of flowers in the breeze, that’s why I love my job.
I’m walking up and down, rain or shine, got the world around to feed my eyes
And I do really hope people will not stop
Sending a sign, dropping a line ‘cause I don’t wanna lose my job, no I won’t lose my job.
Words and music by Paolo Giorgi © S.I.A.E. 2005
08-SAILS AND THE SEA
Sails in the sea. Hands on my steering wheel. No sign to see, but my fears.
Dolphins by me. They jump up and dive down. Swimming in the sea, guiding my sailing.
Am I following them to dance or do they follow me?
Not a don’t go beyond that fence but a feeling free.
I can feel this more than a chance.
Like you and me. Hands on our steering wheels. No sign to see, but our fears.
Life is the sea; we jump up and dive down. We swim in this sea guiding our feelings.
Am I following you to dance or do you follow me? Not a don’t go beyond that fence but a feeling free.
We can feel this more than a chance.
Words and music by Paolo Giorgi, E. De Pascale, G. Nuti, G. Rosati © S.I.A.E. 2001-2009
09-ONCE UPON A TIME (Giorgi)
This is the story of Lady Jane, locked in a freezing castle room,
Waiting for someone who could help her through to get off those crazy walls.
Out of the castle was Prince John I, trying to remember where he left the keys
To enter the door of that wonderland and marry his Lady Jane.
But what a stupid guy am I, I've forgotten 3 dogs,
Barking along and making Prince John stay out of the castle door.
I'm afraid, but I'm inside this maze, I must find the courage to go on;
I hear the dogs' voice around the haze and I can't find a candle light.
I've been walking for hours to find this door, but what could I do to get inside,
I haven't got the keys and I'm not strong and my Lady Jane is crying.
I'll try to say the magic words my father told me 'bout:
"Cut a sunbeam, make up an endless rope; walk on, son, and catch your love."
And finally Lady Jane is free, the dogs are on their knees:
And we can run to reach our speedy horse and fly to live our love.
Words and music by Paolo Giorgi © S.I.A.E. 1996
10-SEA WAVE EYES (Giorgi)
Well, if I'm a fool for you throw this sheet away. And if you laugh at me don't hold back.
But if you happened to waver for awhile for something had run across your mind.
Listen, just listen to these words and look in their eyes as you looked at mine.
I'm not used to getting rid of my feelings, I can't show them off like golden rings.
But as deep as a wild desert night I'm drowned in your sea wave eyes.
The night is running and I'm gathering rhymes, but ain't there a change in me.
'Cause I can't help wearing this pain by words that I feel and don't ask me why.
Words and music by Paolo Giorgi, E. De Pascale, G. Nuti, G. Rosati © S.I.A.E. 1989-2004 Published by CLASSICA NOVA Edizioni Musicali
11-A BRIDGE ACROSS
There’s a bridge across the river and a cloudy sky above.
There’s a door behind my shoulders, I feel like I am lost.
There’s a bridge across the river, hazy sunshine, I can’t see.
There’s a door behind my shoulders and I wish I had the key.
Sometimes I stand in the middle of nowhere waiting for a helping hand
But when I see them stars keep shining, Lord, I trust your mighty plan.
There’s a bridge across the river and the full moon in the sky
There’s a door behind my shoulders, but you walk me through the night.
Words and music by Paolo Giorgi © S.I.A.E. 2007
12-ONE MORE
I feel like thousands of souls, turn the radio on to hear I am not alone.
I feel like I’m here and anywhere like a downhill ride to the end
It’s one more day under the sun, one more night drenched by the rain
One more drop in the ocean, one more turn of wheel
One more end to start by, one more start to end.
Just a sort of a runway to take off or land
Each and everyday up and down again one more.
It seems like life is on time just to remind me to wake up my mind
And stop refusing the future or planning about the past.
It’s one more coin lost in the game, one more mile run I’ve left behind.
One more line to beat on, one more stop to pay
One more spring to hope on, one more helpless fall
Just a sort of a runway to take off or land each and everyday up and down again
And the price that we have to pay is to die everyday
It’s a sort of a foolish game not to lose the gain… one more.
Words and music by Paolo Giorgi, E. De Pascale, G. Nuti, G. Rosati © S.I.A.E. 2006-2009
13-OIL ON CANVAS
Raindrops falling on velvet hills, wind is blowing through the shadows
Gentle waving of a willow tree, moon is hiding in the meadows
Feel out of time here, in this life realm, where dreams are living out of any sight.
Every reason has a slow gear, every season is a long year.
Mind games are the only ways to find the dawning of a new day.
Hours fleeting without a-breathing, deeper feelings need a place to stay.
Lazy feelings waiting for a train, fingers playing the rhythm of the rain
And every house is home here, every sign is so clear
Every eye is ready to open just the door.
Every house is home here, every smile is peace here,
Every hand is warm here they make me want to go.
Make me want to go, make want to go.
Hours fleeting without a-breathing, deeper feelings need a place to stay.
Lazy feelings waiting for a train, fingers playing the rhythm of the rain
And every house is home here, every sign is so clear
Every eye is ready to open just the door.
Every house is home here, every smile is peace here,
Every hand is warm here they make me want to go.
Make me want to go, make want to go.
Words and music by Paolo Giorgi © S.I.A.E. 2008