Mellow

Taylor Swift - champagne problems

Lyrics:
You booked the night train for a reason
So you could sit there in this hurt
Bustling crowds or silent sleepers
You're not sure which is worse

Because I dropped your hand while dancing
Left you out there standing
Crestfallen on the landing
Champagne problems

Your mom's ring in your pocket
My picture in your wallet
Your heart was glass, I dropped it
Champagne problems

You told your family for a reason
You couldn't keep it in
Your sister splashed out on the bottle
Now no one's celebrating

Dom Pérignon, you brought it
No crowd of friends applauded
Your hometown skeptics called it
Champagne problems

You had a speech, you're speechless
Love slipped beyond your reaches
And I couldn't give a reason
Champagne problems

Your Midas touch on the Chevy door
November flush and your flannel cure
"This dorm was once a madhouse"
I made a joke, "Well, it's made for me"

How evergreen, our group of friends
Don't think we'll say that word again
And soon they'll have the nerve to deck the halls
That we once walked through

One for the money, two for the show
I never was ready, so I watch you go
Sometimes you just don't know the answer
'Til someone's on their knees and asks you

"She would've made such a lovely bride
What a shame she's fucked in her head, " they said
But you'll find the real thing instead
She'll patch up your tapestry that I shred

And hold your hand while dancing
Never leave you standing
Crestfallen on the landing
With champagne problems

Your mom's ring in your pocket
Her picture in your wallet
You won't remember all my
Champagne problems

You won't remember all my
Champagne problems

Written by: Taylor Swift and Joe Alwyn

Taylor Swift - champagne problems

Bi To بی تو

christmas morning

all i want for christmas is you

Hani Niroo: Arrangement & Vocal
G-U-R-U: Sound design

لی لی حوضک/به یاد عارف

http://www.roozonline.com/persian/news/newsitem/article/-f2740e963f.html

بودنت هنوز مثل بارونه،‌تازه و خنک و ناز و آرومه

حتی الان از پشت این دیوار که ساختم، تا دوست نداشته باشم

اتل و متل، بهار بیرونه، مرغابی تو باغش می‌خونه

باغ من سرده،‌ همه گل هاش، پژمرده دونه دونه

بارون بارونه ...

دلم تنگه پرتغال من،‌ گلپر سبزه قلب زار من

منو ببخش از برای تو، هرچی که بخوای می یارم

اتل و متل، نازنین دل، زندگی خوبه و مهربونه

عطر و بوش همین، غم و شادیِ کوچیک و بزرگمونه

آهای زمونه ...

این گردونه‌ات و کی داره می‌چرخونه؟

بودنت هنوز مثل بارونه، مثل قدیما پاک و روونه

از پشت این دیوار بی‌رحمی که بینمونه

آچین و واچین، عسل شیرین،قصه‌مون هنوز ناتمومه

از این جا به بعد کی میدونه که، چی سرنوشت مونه

بارون بارونه ...

Delam Tangeh Porteghale Man-دلم تنگه پرتقال من

"The Type"
by Sarah Kay


If you grow up the type of woman men want to look at,
You can let them look at you.
But do not mistake eyes for hands,
Or windows for mirrors.
Let them see what a woman looks like.
They may not have ever seen one before.

If you grow up the type of woman men want to touch,
You can let them touch you.
Sometimes it is not you they are reaching for.
Sometimes it is a bottle, a door, a sandwich, a Pulitzer, another woman -
But their hands found you first.
Do not mistake yourself for a guardian, or a muse, or a promise, or a victim or a snack.
You are a woman -
Skin and bones, veins and nerves, hair and sweat
You are not made of metaphors,
Not apologies, not excuses.

If you grow up the type of woman men want to hold,
You can let them hold you.
All day they practice keeping their bodies upright.
Even after all this evolving it still feels unnatural,
Still strains the muscles, holds firm the arms and spine.
Only some men will want to learn what it feels like to curl themselves into a question mark around you,
Admit they don’t have the answers they thought they would by now.
Some men will want to hold you like the answer.
You are not the answer.
You are not the problem.
You are not the poem, or the punchline, or the riddle, or the joke.

Woman, if you grow up the type of woman men want to love,
You can let them love you.
Being loved is not the same thing as loving.
When you fall in love,
It is discovering the ocean after years of puddle jumping.
It is realising you have hands.
It is reaching for the tightrope after the crowds have all gone home.
Do not spend time wondering if you are the type of woman men will hurt.
If he leaves you with a car alarm heart.
You learn to sing along.
It is hard to stop loving the ocean,
Even after it’s left you gasping, salty.
So forgive yourself for the decisions you’ve made,
The ones you still call mistakes when you tuck them in at night,
And know this.
Know you are the type of woman who is searching for a place to call yours.
Let the statues crumble.
You have always been the place.
You are a woman who can build it yourself.
You are born to build.

http://www.kaysarahsera.com/

Sarah Kay - Type

Anti-Hero

Anti-Hero (Acoustic Version)

The One That Got Away - Christina Grimmie (Cover)

Andrea Gibson - Royal Heart

 تنظیم برای ارکستر از شهرداد روحانی

[ JAVAD MAROUFI - Golden dreams ]

The Last Time (rough lol)

like we're connected from past lives

Love, Rosie.

Laying In Bed After A Good Day

شبــــــ بود

شب بود بیابان بود زمستان بود
بوران بود سرمای فراوان بود
یارم در آغوشم هراسان بود
از سردی افسرده و بی‌جان بود
از بهر آن سیمینبر خوشگل
از جسم و جان خود بودم غافل
میکوشیدم بهرش از جان و دل
میبردمش با خود سوی منزل
گیسویش، از باد و باران گشته آشفته
در در در مویش، گویی مروارید غلتان خفته

شب بود بیابان بود زمستان بود
بوران بود سرمای فراوان بود
یارم در آغوشم هراسان بود
از سردی افسرده و بی‌جان بود
...
 

Bi To بی تو

Parisa Ghazavi

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Milad BM

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