When I think of those dirty streets
where dogs walk about with their tails up;
where you're afraid you might fall in a hole
if you dare stare at the pale moon;
and all that garbage garbage garbage
and the strangest of smells...
God, I don't know why
I always want to go to Tirana
to Tirana
to Tirana
to Tirana

'cause this is my mud the best of its kind
the dearest
that like a kiss sticks to my forehead and whispers:
when are you coming back
to Tirana?

'cause this is my mud the best of its kind
the dearest
that like a kiss sticks to my forehead and whispers:
when are you coming back
to Tirana?
In Tirana
In Tirana
In Tirana
In Tirana
In Tirana
In Tirana