زينة رقصة البدوية

موال بدرية - محمد أبو دراع

‎⁨رضا البحراوي مزيكا- الملعب واسع ( مالكوش لازمه بصراحة ) كلة اونطة ومش شغال - محمد حريقة ( 2024 )

شرين عبد الوهاب أغنية كده  في مسلسل طريقي

I don't trust myself-
no,
not even with my own life.
I don't trust myself-
no,
not even with my own life.
God knows I've tried to
throw it away enough times
Oh! God knows I've tried to
throw it away enough times.
Nobody can tell me
..........how I've survived.
They just don't know
..........how I've survived.
But I've survived to try and die
..........all over again.
I go to extremes of mental pain
..........to be creative-
again and again and again.

I don't trust myself-
no,
not even with my own life.
I don't trust myself-
no,
not even with my own life.
God knows I've tried to
throw it away enough times
Oh! God knows I've tried to
throw it away enough times.
Nobody can tell me
..........how I've survived.
They just don't know
..........how I've survived.
But I've survived to try and die
..........all over again.
I go to extremes of mental pain
..........to be creative-
again and again and again.

*

(chorus)
Writing a poem is a small death.
Time steals your last breath-
gives you the kiss of life.
.....Painting drains your blood.
Sculpting melts your bones.
Oh! I am feeling so alone.
This is Earth.
.....For what it's worth
it doesn't feel like home.

Writing a poem is a small death.
Time steals your last breath-
gives you the kiss of life.
.....Painting drains your blood.
Sculpting melts your bones.
Oh! I am feeling so alone.
This is Earth.
.....For what it's worth
it doesn't feel like home.

*

I don't trust myself-
no,
not even with my own life.
I don't trust myself-
no,
not even with my own life.
God knows I've tried to
throw it away enough times
Oh! God knows I've tried to
throw it away enough times.
Nobody can tell me
..........how I've survived.
They just don't know
..........how I've survived.
But I've survived to try and die
..........all over again.
I go to extremes of mental pain
..........to be creative-
again and again and again.

*

(chorus)
Writing a poem is a small death.
Time steals your last breath-
gives you the kiss of life.
.....Painting drains your blood.
Sculpting melts your bones.
Oh! I am feeling so alone.
This is Earth.
.....For what it's worth
it doesn't feel like home.

Writing a poem is a small death.
Time steals your last breath-
gives you the kiss of life.
.....Painting drains your blood.
Sculpting melts your bones.
Oh! I am feeling so alone.
This is Earth.
.....For what it's worth
it doesn't feel like home.

*

This is Earth.
.....For what it's worth
it doesn't feel like home.

This is Earth.
.....For what it's worth
it doesn't feel like home.

THIS IS EARTH

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