Ebrahim Monsefi - Degam Nava

Man Mesle Baad ( pro by pastoo - Mix & Mastering by : shervin Raadfar )

Verse 1]
Every word I try to say just hits the floor,
Like broken glass they don’t hear me anymore.
Their faces twist, like I’m some kind of freak,
Guess my voice ain’t the sound they seek.

[Pre-Chorus]
I open up but the static screams,
They roll their eyes, I fade between—
All the cracks in their perfect speech,
Where my truth can’t ever reach.

[Chorus]
I talk in a different tongue,
And no one wants to hear it sung.
They stare like I’m out of line,
Like my thoughts ain’t worth their time.
I choke on every word I spit,
They laugh and I swallow it.
I talk in a different tongue,
Guess I’m better left undone.

[Verse 2]
Every room feels colder when I’m near,
Like I’m the silence they all fear.
They don’t get what’s inside my head,
So I let my voice stay dead.

[Pre-Chorus]
I’m tired of trying to translate pain,
They’ll never feel it all the same.
Their mouths move fast, I bite my tongue,
Just another song unsung.

[Chorus]
I talk in a different tongue,
And no one wants to hear it sung.
They stare like I’m out of line,
Like my thoughts ain’t worth their time.
I choke on every word I spit,
They laugh and I swallow it.
I talk in a different tongue,
Guess I’m better left undone.

[Bridge]
I’m not broken, I’m just wired wrong,
Built for noise, not their polite song.
I scream in colors they can’t see,
So they paint their world without me.

[Outro]
Every word still burns my throat,
Every truth I never wrote.
If I could speak and not be stung,
Maybe they’d hear my different tongue.

Different tongue

Boots hit gravel before the sun could rise.
Hands found work where prayers once lay.
Fields stood dry beneath a silent sky.
Dust clung tight to yesterday.
One day marked for rest and reverence
now holds sweat and borrowed time.
Guilt rides shotgun in the silence
while hope hums low beneath the grime.
Three mouths wait for bread and shelter.
Two small dresses hang to dry.
One newborn sleeps beside his mother
while bills stack high and dreams run shy.
Some folks kneel with polished shoes.
Others bend where labor calls.
The rich pass by with empty glances.
The poor still try to make that hall.
A man can love without a steeple.
A soul can shine through sweat and clay.
The heart still knows what’s sacred,
even when it works on Sunday.
Rain forgot the rows this season.
Crops bowed down without a fight.
Faith feels thin beneath the burden
but still walks forward toward the light.
Scripture waits inside the kitchen.
Grace lives quiet on the floor.
Truth don’t mind a rearrangement
if the spirit’s at the core.
Four Sundays circle every calendar.
One might bend to feed the rest.
The heavens know the weight of hunger.
The heavens honor honest sweat.
Forgiveness isn’t bound by timing.
Devotion doesn’t wear a clock.
The sacred lives in every moment
where love and labor never stop.
Hope ain’t dressed in robes or ribbons.
Peace don’t ask for perfect form.
The big man sees the shifting rhythm
and walks beside the working worn.
Doing the best a man can manage.
Holding tight to what is true.
Always first in heart and honor—
but today, the soil... needs ....tending too....soil... needs ....tending too....

All Rights held by songwriter Edwin H. Balder. Thanks to all the wonderful talent that made these recordings possible including the Del Studio Players, Tina, Tommy, Hot Cookie, The Indivisibles, AKB, and TBOJAR   For More tracks like this enjoy The Jubilee Line Playlist: https://soundcloud.com/edwin-balder/sets/the-jubilee-line?si=0e644986d56741c2b6eb7dc09f516a71&utm_source=clipboard&utm_medium=text&utm_campaign=social_sharing

Four Sundays written by Edwin H. Balder

Esta canción es una oración de arrepentimiento y vida nueva. Inspirada en Lucas 13:1–9, habla de la misericordia de Dios que nos da otra oportunidad para dar fruto y de la urgencia de convertir el corazón antes de que sea demasiado tarde.

1025 No Esperes, basada en Lucas 13_1-9

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