I just want your extra time and your kiss

volonte' fotografo milanoYou don’t have to be beautiful
To turn me on
I just need your body baby
From dusk till dawn
You don’t need experience
To turn me out
You just leave it all up to me
I’m gonna show you what it’s all about
You don’t have to be rich
To be my girl
You don’t have to be cool
To rule my world
Ain’t no particular sign I’m more compatible with
I just want your extra time and your
Oh oh
You got to not talk dirty, baby
If you want to impress me
You can’t be to flirty, mama
I know how to undress me, yeah
I want to be your fantasy
Maybe you could be mine
You just leave it all up to me
We could have a good time
Don’t have to be rich
To be my girl
Don’t have to be cool
To rule my world
Ain’t no particular sign I’m more compatible with
I just want your extra time and your
Yes, oh oh oh
I think I want to dance, uhh, ooohh
Gotta, gotta, oh
Little girl Wendy’s parade
Gotta, gotta, gotta…
_ Prince (Kiss, excerpt) _

Image info:
“I just want your extra time and your kiss”
Italy, Nov. 2015
© Massimo S. Volonté


City Sickness – 397

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“City Sickness No. 397”
Italy, Jan. 2017
© Massimo S. Volonté

Beautiful catastrophe #049

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Image info:
“Beautiful catastrophe #049”
Milano, Italy, March 2014
© Massimo S. Volonté

Nightmare no. 42

volonte fotografo milanoMad, mad, mad
I hold my own hands in hands
Terrible shivers shake me
I feel a great cold inside
But temperature is not so low outside
Blinding walls
But the paint is torn into shreds
Like my thoughts
No more shape and consistency
Without beginning nor end
Like in a spiral
I’ve memory of a large scale that I started to descend
I do not know where it had led me to
Fear, fear, fear
I have no courage to look at my face
I can’t bear the sight of my disfigured face, my elongated head,
of my squeezed eyes in dark circles, without orientation,
of my almost invisible nose, the torn ears,
few hair scattered on the skull
The mouth in a grimace
High window, with bars to keep out the dangers
Broken glass, the wind whistles
It’s a train that moves away
Tired, tired, tired
How long can a man stand?
In the solitude of an island that’s its mind, surrounded by a sea made of tiny tears
Distant worlds
I feel dirty, inside and out
Nothing can clean-up me
Love, love, love
On the naked mattress
Like life while struggling against of moving sands of remorse
The past
The magic in the rainbow
Appearance, its disappearance
No way out
I have nothing, anymore, inside out
A photo, an old photo is on the floor, dirty, wrinkled
The words of a song, its notes, I still hear them
“Love will tear us apart”
Mad, mad, mad

Folle, folle, folle
tengo le mie mani strette tra di loro
Brividi tremendi mi scuotono
Sento un grande freddo dentro
La temperatura non è così bassa fuori
Le pareti sono accecanti
Ma la vernice cade a pezzi
Come il mio pensiero
Non ha più forma e consistenza
Senza inizio e senza fine
Come in una spirale
Il ricordo di una grande scala che ho cominciato a scendere
Non so dove mi ha portato
Paura, paura, paura
Non ho il coraggio di guardarmi in faccia
Non posso vedere il mio volto sfigurato, la testa allungata,
gli occhi infossati in nere occhiaie, senza orientamento,
il naso quasi invisibile, le orecchie lacerate,
i pochi capelli sparsi sul cranio,
la bocca è una smorfia
La finestra alta, le sbarre per tenere fuori i pericoli
Vetri rotti, il vento fischia
E’ un treno che si allontana
Per sempre
Stanco, stanco, stanco
Quanto può resistere un uomo?
Nella solitudine di un’isola che è la sua mente, circondata da un mare fatto da piccole lacrime
Mondi lontanissimi
Mi sento sporco, dentro e fuori
Niente può pulirmi
Amore, amore, amore
Sul materasso nudo
La pace
Come la vita mentre si lotta contro le sabbie mobili dei rimorsi
Il passato
La magia dell’arcobaleno
L’apparizione, la sua scomparsa
Nessuna via d’uscita
Non ho più niente, dentro e fuori
Una foto, una vecchia foto sta a terra, sporca, spiegazzata
Le parole di una canzone, le note, continuo a sentirle
“Love will tear us apart”
Folle, folle, folle
_ Hugh S. Graves _

Image info:
“Nightmare no. 42”
Italy, May 2015
© Massimo S. Volonté

Don’t look back in anger

Volonte' fotografo milanoSlip inside the eye of your mind
Don’t you know you might find
A better place to play?
You said that you’d never been
But all the things that you’ve seen
They slowly fade away
So I start a revolution from my bed
Cause you said the brains I had went to my head
Step outside, summertime’s in bloom
Stand up beside the fireplace
Take that look from off your face
You ain’t ever gonna burn my heart out
And so, Sally can wait
She knows it’s too late as we’re walking on by
Her soul slides away
But don’t look back in anger
I heard you say
Take me to the place where you go
Where nobody knows if it’s night or day
Please don’t put your life in the hands
Of a rock’n’roll band
Who’ll throw it all away

So, Sally can wait
She knows it’s too late as she’s walking on by
My soul slides away
But don’t look back in anger
Don’t look back in anger
I heard you say
At least not today
_ Oasis (Don’t look back in anger, excerpt) _

Image info:
“Don’t look back in anger”
Italy, 2016
© Massimo S. Volonté

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