The (Real) Italian Job

I was wandering Europe. It was Spring. The Giro d'Italia was in full swing. I wanted to sing.

'Cause I was blotto.
Blotto on gelato.
That sweet frozen treat
Beautiful gelato.

Trudging over mountains. I wandered. He heat had me wonder. I fell asunder.

'Cause I was blotto.
Blotto on gelato.
That sweet frozen treat
Beautiful gelato.

On their bikes. Racers rode by me. They had me stymied. I fell to one knee.

'Cause I was blotto.
Blotto on gelato.
I cried to the skies.
For beautiful gelato.

And when the sun deflated. And the night grew cold. I wasn't as bold. No gelato to hold.

Key Lime
Graham Cracker
Cinnamon
Ginger.

Malted Milk Ball
Mango
Rum Raisin
Mocha Chip.

Every pore screamed. Every hole. Every mole. Jumped for joy as I stole...

Gelato.

Beautiful gelato.