Call the inspectors,

There’s been an explosion of love,

At apartment 10, Via Lungetevere Flaminio,

Love is flowing out of the windows,

Flowing down into the streets.

 

Call the inspectors,

Roads are breaking open,

Flowers are bursting through,

Garbage bins dance round in circles,

Traffic lights flash red, red, red,

And the River Tiber sings out,

As the love flows on and on.

 

Call the inspectors,

Men, women,

Are becoming stuck now,

In love’s sweet fragrant sauce,

Fixing them,

To the pavement, in their cars,

Unable and unwilling to break free,

Gazing with understanding into each other’s eyes,

Clothing being shed.

 

Call the inspectors,

The piazzas overflow,

With passionate embraces,

Forgiveness, joy and compassion,

The sun kisses the earth,

And the wind embraces the trees,

The whole city is glowing,

Is there no hope for any of us?

 

Ah, here come the inspectors,

The inspectors have arrived,

But, sweet heavens above!

Maddona and mamma mia!

The inspectors are in love!