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Hey, Luciano, how nice it is indeed,
you've come at last, no longer have a need
to entertain the infidels and those who must
sit tight on wooden chairs to feel the lust
of genius, of a voice that only God
could have created. Nothing is more odd
than men who cry at tenor sounds from you,
yet never hesitate to kill at Waterloo
while wearing smiles and singing songs of utter joy.
Do you agree that life just sucks my Southern boy?
And would you join me at the table for some cheese?
We have a lovely, warm and fragrant morning breeze,
I shall present you with the best of La Capella
and we shall drink, to life, a dark Valpolicella,
If I do say so, I was always number one
and you, signore, will be second, not that Hun.
And may I ask, would you be partial to the oozo,
it is the nectar for my heart, Enrico Caruso.
Herbert Nehrlich
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