Little Tito had a magazine, not that that kind
this one went in a gun
fell down on Florentine as was how theses things begun.
never saw it coming but knew that it was there...
inevitable curiosities, expectations mean much more.
The Florence of rage and the cure for hopes,
do all these things end here?
I guess they do, I know they do, but....
nothing describes the currency, the price that must be payed.
Next arm is in the legacy, next leg near the foot.
Tito got his brand in mouth, now Tito walks alone.
Separate stalls and world shakes home, nothing remains the same.
Sordid likes of one as he and nowhere but to go home.
Tracks and tracks of dynasty, future still undefined.
Tito needs more faith in life or Tito soon goes home....