Spaghetti Life

LYRICS (CLEAN VERSION FOR SUNO) [Intro – spoken, light beat, clean guitar] Yeah… Colosseo behind me, tourists everywhere, and me… with my beautiful, fucked-up life. Spaghetti dreams, spaghetti brain… Benvenuti a Roma. [Verse 1] I’m standin’ by the Colosseum, plastic gladiators pose, kids are screamin’, couples kissin’, Instagrammin’ all their goals. I was nine and thought by thirty I’d be rich and fuckin’ free, now I’m thirty-something, tired, with a discount salary. Got a ring on my finger, wife yellin’ in HD, “Why you always so exhausted? Why you always wanna flee?” Mother-in-law’s a final boss that I never got to choose, every Sunday family dinner feels like guaranteed abuse. Job is just a broken record, boss says, “Team, we are a fam,” translation: “Die for my KPI’s, I won’t even give a damn.” Life was s’posed to be ravioli: little pockets, nice and neat, now it’s noodles on the ceiling, cold spaghetti at my feet. [Pre-Chorus] Every step I take, another tangle in my head, thought I’d chase the stars, but I’m just chasin’ fuckin’ bread. I was promised simple lines, tidy portions on my plate, now it’s sauce on my shoes and this lukewarm fate. [Chorus – Italian] La mia vita è spaghetti, tutto un nodo, tutto heavy, fila rossa nel mio petto, qualcuno ci ha messo il ketchup. Non è questo che sognavo, da bambino disegnavo, un futuro chiaro e netto, ora è solo un piatto freddo. [Verse 2] Wife says, “Grow up, stop complainin’, everybody’s tired too,” yeah, I know we’re all exhausted, but that doesn’t make it new. Neighbors fight about the parking, someone drills at 6 a.m., I just sit there with my coffee, scrolling other people’s fame. Bills are breeding in the kitchen, they got more sex than I do, my libido took a taxi, left a note: “It’s not you, it’s the view.” Dreams I had when I was younger now just stare from dusty shelves, action figures, old guitars, version beta of myself. All my heroes in the movies had a purpose and a plan, I got spreadsheets, group on WhatsApp, and a broken subway card in hand. Thought I’d be a lion roaring in this ancient stone arena, now I’m just a tired dude, stain of sauce on my camisa. [Pre-Chorus 2] Every day another knot in all these overcooked routines, every “maybe” every “later” kills the kid I used to be. Life was s’posed to be al dente, firm and ready for the bite, someone boiled it into mush and then turned off the light. [Chorus – Italian] La mia vita è spaghetti, tutto un nodo, tutto heavy, fila rossa nel mio petto, qualcuno ci ha messo il ketchup. Non è questo che sognavo, ma sto ancora qui, respiro, guardo il vecchio Colosseo, chiedo a Dio: “Che cazzo è successo?” [Bridge – spoken / melodic] I remember bein’ little, Sunday sauce, my mama’s hands, spaghetti on a tiny plate, I drew castles, foreign lands. Thought that grown-ups had the answers, magic keys to every door, no one told me that the magic was just “pay your bills and more.” All those promises on TV: “You can be what you believe,” guess they never met my mortgage, guess they never met my grief. Still I’m standin’ by these ruins, where they cheered and where they bled, and I’m laughin’ ‘bout spaghetti just to not cry in my head. [Break – hard rock riff] Spaghetti thoughts in a plastic cup, I keep sayin’ “fine,” but I’m fuckin’ stuck. Life is one long messy plate, I clean the table, but I’m always late. [Final Chorus – Italian, more intense] La mia vita è spaghetti, ma ci provo, resto in piedi, rido forte del mio petto, anche se c’è sopra il ketchup. Non è questo che sognavo, ma il bambino non è morto, tra le rovine del Colosseo, sogna ancora un altro piatto. [Outro – soft] Yeah… Spaghetti life. Not the menu I ordered, but I’m still here, tryin’ not to choke on it. Buona notte, Roma.