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GioGio

Giorno Giovanna (Japanese: ジョルノ・ジョバァーナ, Hepburn: Joruno Jobāna) is a fictional character in the Japanese manga series JoJo's Bizarre Adventure, written and illustrated by Hirohiko Araki. The main protagonist of the series' fifth story arc, Golden Wind, he was born Haruno Shiobana (汐華 初流乃, Shiobana Haruno), the illegitimate son of Dio Brando while possessing Jonathan Joestar's body. After saving an unknown mafia member in his childhood, Giorno dreams of joining the Italian mafia gang Passione to overthrow its boss, Diavolo, who keeps a very low profile, and close the drug trade, desiring to help the innocent. Joining Bruno Bucciarati and his team, they go on a mission to send Trish Una to her father, the boss of Passione. Giorno possesses a Stand known as Gold… more »

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Got my feet on the ocean
They takin' my pics, not sink in devotion
I'm making a risk, not risking my lows an'
Keeping my nose out of business and coke, hey
Not smoking a cig 'cause I know I'm addicted
Whether a girl or a drink, codependent
Waiting to surf on my wings for descendants
Genius of sentences
These are not freckles, I choke from the embarrassment
Maybe the reason I wanted a platform was so a rope
Could easily break my neck, place your bets
Suicidal since ten, my back is a mess from the spinal effect
Alike to my fam in depression, but they sleep through madness despite of the rest
I guess that's the why to the fights in the past
My head is a cycle, a self driving crash
My head is the target my art is dyin' for, timing the nine in my hand
Wifey is askin' why am I crying in bed
Why am I writing to that ex-friend of mine that used to sigh at my laughs
For a fact it's a sign of my pride and regrets
Why am I buying a pen?
It's not like there's a - scratch or a line in my pad
I only chat about I, but I despise every side of myself
I see the clash inside of your help
I'm afraid of them touching me, fitting their fingers inside of my scars
Not metaphysics, I'm talking quite literally, feeling the rise on my arms
Gon' get sick when thinking of intimacy, seeking me wiped of my shorts
Surprised I'm not hyped about love, sex, linking or liking the sight of my corpse
Most of my friends still live in a grave
'Spose that I'm blessed I can speak of their names
Rose in the grass where piss is the frame
No counteraction, the gifted ashamed
Thorns in my bare skin, spinning and slaying
Worries of has-beens, I fidget away
Horrors of Eldritch weaving my fate
Forcing inaction, seethe at my face
As my interest in life is a fight that is crushing for me
Been living described that the secret of life lied in brushing my teeth
Or hugging beliefs that are partly a scheme and largely spleen
Partially mean and hardly seen
Everybody is like: "Where's the part where he sings?"
F*ck it, I'll jump off a cliff

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