he doesn't seem the villain that he's made out to be
always has a sympathetic ear
I tell my tale of woe and he offers his advice
and everything seems perfectly clear

he says
"here we are in our exile
and we can't recall our crime
better just forget her, son
she'll do it every time
she did the same thing to me"

that's what I find disturbing about this situation
it ought to be a punishment but it feels more like a vacation
and that seems to suit me
visiting mussolini

I think about my choices and I think about my blood
try to read the story in the patterns
clearly I deserve this and I need to find out why
but mussolini laughs at me for thinking that it matters

"here we are in our exile
and we can't recall our crime
better just forget her, son
she'll do it every time
she did the same thing to me"

mussolini disagrees about prophecy and destiny
he calls it pointless fantasy just swimming in my head
at his time in history he didn't have my luxuries
no desert island discs
no all-time Top Five
no navel-gazing trepverter
it was enough to be alive

to be alive

then the moment passes
and my clarity is gone

the sun is high
the sea is warm
but the comfort's much too cold
can't get past the shifty source
of what I'm being told
it makes no sense to me
visiting mussolini

and all that I can think about
is how I must get back
but somewhere deep inside I know
it's never gonna last
'cause every time this happens
every time that I'm set free
I end up visiting mussolini

I never see it coming
and it's so hard to believe
that I'm back again
this island welcomes me