One day it will erupt and turn this city into grave - I say.
No one believes a fortune-teller, no one wants to face the fate. They wonβt leave Pompeii, nothing can make them go, there's no place like this in the whole Rome.
Nothing will make them leave, only fools run away from paradise. They are singing and drinking wine, girls are dancing and music's playing.
I wish I didn't know how it will end, I wish I was one of them.
I'll pour some wine into the glass and down it as fast as I can, and then I'll have another one, and another one. I'll be singing with them, dancing. I'll kiss a girl and then I'll sleep with her,