He’s the one wakin’ up in the middle of night.
Seeking his fridge, the first on the right.
Fighting to conquer and eat each and everyone cookie…
No one will perish for hunger no more!
He rides his bike no matter what it takes.
His thighs are burning, it really hakes.
He will keep on resist to defend his own muffin…
The burned skin will not stop his will to eat!
[Ch.: My Bambolardo, sweetest dream
Riding your bike through the forest of cream! My Bambolardo you hug me…
We’re gonna fly where the eagles fly free!]
Bleeding kneels, sweat his face and his ass!
Tiny people, hunger: you shall not pass!
A sword made of chocolate a shield made of cream…
A glorious armour in jelly you’ ve never seen!
[Ch. var.: By Bambolardo… ]
Mater me non sentit tamen sapit quare hic sim.
Pupe glauce, sine spiris casei idem numquam eris.
Iam circum horror mortis me perfundit quia famem non miseret.
Sicut heri numquam potest fieri, non eadem gloria… Eia veni amplexum me denuo.