For me and Mario, 15 years up to the same country road, friends, school. (Poor and low-profit)
Then for me the city, yet the country for him.
Since then my life was never the same: new speech, friends, work, ambitions, prospects. For the time was
Mario paused: usual speech, friends, ambitions (zero),
perspectives (zero), lucky for him that the bar and the beer were on standby.
Year after year, as per the procedure of the Good South, the party of the country, I descended "down" at home, and how he wants the rule of the emigrant, also contaminated by the new life.
Accent North (sorry, Po), clothing trend, car and some Dane, then girlfriend, wife, daughters and a host of benefits from the status of "progress."
Year after year, Mario was always there: Central Bar, chair, legs crossed, to top the table with the usual Peroni, cigarette between his lips, beatific smile.
Well, I'm almost old, much of the life I spent in doing projects, and chasing targets in different cities, far from here. Mario
no! After 40 years the only real change in his routine, was the return of beer from Peroni bottle, Peroni is passed to the "plug"
In a nutshell: I have my projects (not all for charity! And how hard) HE ... has its central table in the bar, legs crossed, always fresh beer, cigarette, and smile Nobel Peace!
Sorry, but I'm at the point the question arises: But between the two, who the smart, and who is the fool? ....
..... My God, I have a terrible doubt!
You know what? I / We dedicate this song, which brings me back to the time of the "Bar Central"
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