You cannot help but marvel,
At the beauty of this place,
And you cannot help but wonder,
That they're a most peculiar race.

***

So full of life and energy.
With such elegance and style,
Yet lacking in life's essentials,
Like gallons, yards and miles.

***

And those dark celestial beauties,
With skin without a flaw,
Who walk around in bathing suits,
They ought to pass a law.

***

Of their men, there are stories,
As lovers and intellects of old,
So why then do they always,
Drive on the wrong side of the road ?

***

And if Rome once conquered England,
Then why are there today,
So many speaking English,
Now explain me that, I say.

***

Their preferences seem strange to me,
To take coffea short and black !
I can only assume this is because,
They like their men like that.

***

And why in such a country,
So Catholic through and through,
Is the population falling,
What do their men now do ?

***

From the Pizzeria to the baker,
From the Government to the market stall,
All so full of Italian culture,
And FIAT owns them all !

***

If an Italian sees a Robin,
A chirping in a tree,
He will stop and listen quietly,
Then shoot it for his tea !

***

In England we love horses,
Well, in Italy they do too,
We like to ride around on them,
They like them in their stew !

***

But truely Italy has a beauty,
In the bright blue shinning sea,
In the lake and mountain havens,
Where I truely love to be.

***

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