| Song | Pizzeria |
| Artist | Marah |
| Album | 20,000 Streets Under the Sky |
| 作曲 : Bielanko, Bielanko | |
| Pizzeria I still see 'ya | |
| Even though your history | |
| You used to sell me cigarettes | |
| When I was just a boy of eleventeen | |
| Your pepperoni and your garlic powder | |
| Were on my breath in my finest hour | |
| The night I sniffed the eight ball's power | |
| And got shocked into a man | |
| Pizzeria I still see 'ya | |
| Even though you turned Chinese | |
| I still hear your boombox blaring | |
| Rock and roll and air condition wheeze | |
| Your dollar slices and your backroom vices | |
| Were in my blood when I roll the dices | |
| The night I robbed the Italian ices | |
| And got picked up like a bitch | |
| Chorus: | |
| Your Star Trek rolled up a shit TV | |
| And your phone kept ringing so desperately | |
| These yesterdays keep hanging round my neck | |
| Like rolled chains of gold Italia | |
| Jailhouses they come and go | |
| These tattooed girls drag me down so low | |
| But memories they stand the test of time | |
| Somehow, man, when all else fails you | |
| Pizzeria I still see 'ya | |
| Every summer on these evening streets | |
| Your counter guys in their platform boots | |
| They're just ghosts made of evening heat | |
| Your pizza boxes under halogen lights | |
| Stood like a castle in my eyes tonight | |
| Then it all collapsed when I took one bite | |
| Of Sweet and Sour #9 | |
| Chorus |
| zuò qǔ : Bielanko, Bielanko | |
| Pizzeria I still see ' ya | |
| Even though your history | |
| You used to sell me cigarettes | |
| When I was just a boy of eleventeen | |
| Your pepperoni and your garlic powder | |
| Were on my breath in my finest hour | |
| The night I sniffed the eight ball' s power | |
| And got shocked into a man | |
| Pizzeria I still see ' ya | |
| Even though you turned Chinese | |
| I still hear your boombox blaring | |
| Rock and roll and air condition wheeze | |
| Your dollar slices and your backroom vices | |
| Were in my blood when I roll the dices | |
| The night I robbed the Italian ices | |
| And got picked up like a bitch | |
| Chorus: | |
| Your Star Trek rolled up a shit TV | |
| And your phone kept ringing so desperately | |
| These yesterdays keep hanging round my neck | |
| Like rolled chains of gold Italia | |
| Jailhouses they come and go | |
| These tattooed girls drag me down so low | |
| But memories they stand the test of time | |
| Somehow, man, when all else fails you | |
| Pizzeria I still see ' ya | |
| Every summer on these evening streets | |
| Your counter guys in their platform boots | |
| They' re just ghosts made of evening heat | |
| Your pizza boxes under halogen lights | |
| Stood like a castle in my eyes tonight | |
| Then it all collapsed when I took one bite | |
| Of Sweet and Sour 9 | |
| Chorus |