Biography of Stefano Francavilla
Just words to explain yourself.
Stefano Francavilla Poems
No Floors Left
Just when every single step seemed to be faded away in a dizzy state of mind, there you are,
You Can Translate It, If You Wish
Quando il sole sara´finalmente alto sopra la testa, ed ogni muro di questo maledetto labirinto tutt´intorno
Tequila -For María And Juan Palomar- By ...
Tequila is a clean flame that clambers up the walls and shoots over tiled roofs, relief to despair. Tequila isn’t for sailors because it blurs the navigational instruments
That Was A Beat
A beat knockin, loaded with fury as dope, for your sweet notes now playing..
Nothing Really Matters.
Carefully she turned over, looked at me straight, the way she only does, thrills at this point over me,
I Now Open My Eyes
Mmmh... the scent your body give as a gift, the touch by your tiny hand, the melody your voice can create,
Il freddo che taglia la pelle, mentre sballottato da una citta´ piu´grande di te cammini, per le strade brillanti dalle mille luci,
To all of you who tired are, waiting, impatienly, for a weekend to come,
Eyes wide open, movement seems to be unknow to everything, in a surreal atmosphere;
To all of you
who tired are,
for a weekend to come,
i wish you the best of fun,
strings attached in a loaded van
or boots and high heels in a fancy club.
No matter really does,