I come from Italy, and this says it all.
I come from the beautiful country,
I come from the "Why are you leaving?" and "Why did you leave it?".
I come from the tears of who I have grown up with and has loved me like a sister and like a half.

I come from where the rain gives an intense smell to everything it touches;
I come from where the greatest time with friends is drinking a hot chocolate when it's cold outside and you wouldn't like to be anywhere else but there.

I come from where the streets are invaded by the smell of hot pizza and wood burning in the brickovens;
I come from where the best thing of the day is getting home after a cold day of winter and your mom's kiss warms your red cheeks.
I come from where not everything's automatic but it is still traditional.

I come from where there are no long distances and people love to walk.
I come from past mistakes and new concerns and dreams.
I come from the "I will miss you" and "When will you come back?";
I come from the "Take care of yourself, I love you tesoro mio".

I come from where the best bedroom is the fresh sand and the calm and repetitive noise of the waves of the beach at night.
I come from where the people are noisy and merry;
I come from where old people hug and kiss you on the cheeks, and impart you great lessons about life;
I come from the noise of the cicadas and the fireflies' twinkling in the countriside during summer nights.

I come from where young people still spend