String co-arrangement and performance by Harley Eblen

Wait
On the wire
On the bar

Stay
Water for the lone
Coffee cups

Fall down my mind
Hope down bye-bye
Chase that damn night away

Cold hands hold mine
Wait you'll go on
Paved your daylight away

It wasn't yet the same
Fire comes
Fire goes

Wasn't yet the cold
Fire burns
Firestorms

When it was

Firestorms

III - Djerid

Desert Rose

Moving On

Fade Into You

Greedy

Voices

Spinning

Never Come Down

praise your name

Beetle (prod. xy1va)

At times I find it hard to sing, when the world seems heavy, and I get too sad or too angry, when insanity is called statesmanship instead of calling the emperor out for being stark naked.

In times like this I turn to something real and honest, like the music of Gianmaria Testa.
Tonight we bring you "Seminatori di grano" - "Sowers of wheat", and we hope you'll enjoy Gideon's guitar playing, and my singing, as always.

lyrics

Sono arrivati che faceva giorno uomini e donne all'altipiano
Col passo lento, silenzioso, accorto dei seminatori di grano
E hanno cercato quello che non c'era, fra la discarica e la ferrovia
E hanno cercato quello che non c'era, dietro i binocoli della polizia
E hanno piegato le mani e gli occhi al vento prima di andare via

Fino alla strada e con una notte intorno sono arrivati dall'altipiano
Uomini e donne con lo sguardo assorto dei seminatori di grano
E hanno lasciato quello che non c'era alla discarica e alla ferrovia
E hanno lasciato quello che non c'era agli occhi liquidi della polizia
E hanno disteso le mani contro il vento che li portava via

English

They arrived at the break of the day, men and women, to the highland
with the slow, silent, vigilant pace of sowers of wheat.
And they were looking for something that wasn’t there between the dumping ground and the railroad
And they were looking for what wasn’t there behind the police’s binoculars
and they folded their hands and eyes in the wind before leaving.

All the way to the road and surrounded by the night they arrived from the highland
men and women with the intent gaze of sowers of wheat.
And they left what wasn’t there to the dumping ground and to the railroad.
And they left what wasn’t there to the tearing eyes of the police
and they stretched out their hands against the wind that was carrying them away


Seminatori di grano (Gianmaria Testa - Giddy & Rob Jam)

Firestorms

Georgi Krastev