Written by: Irving Taylor
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On the island of Stromboli,
recklessly I gave my heart,
On the island of Stromboli,
every dream I own had its start.
If you tell me it was madness, I
can only shrug and sigh,
If you ask me for a reason, I
can't tell you why.
It wasn't the moonlight, for
there wasn't a moon.
No violins were playing, yet our
heart-strings were in tune.
How can I forget Stromboli, how
can I begin to try,
Tell me I'll regret Stromboli,
I'll say what care I?
(musical interlude)
+No luce da luna, perche luna
non c'era+
*Sez ai en quan di violini*
*Con ecuando se en son,*
How can I forget Stromboli, how
can I begin to try,
Tell me I'll regret Stromboli,
I'll say what care I?
+This is Italian for "It
was not light from the moon, because there was no moonlight."
*This must be some sort of Italian
dialect and it should mean, "No violins are playing, but our hearts
are in tune."