Not In My Living Room ...

Vats of grapes with people stomping on them while singing Volare.

Volare, whoa, whoa, whoa!​
Cantare, whoa, whoa!

C'mon, let's fly way up to the clouds
away from the maddening crowds.

We can sing in the glow
of a star that I know of,
where lovers enjoy peace of mind.

Let us leave the confusion
and all disillusion behind, yeah, yeah.
Just like birds of a feather,
a rainbow together we'll find.

Volare, whoa, whoa, whoa!
Cantare, whoa, whoa!

No wonder my happy heart sings!
Your love has given me wings!

Volare, whoa, whoa, whoa!
Cantare, whoa, whoa!


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