Name: Midnight Serenade by Pétur Söebech Quinn
Duration: 3 min 58 s
Description: In the hush of midnight, where city lights glow low, I wander enchanted streets where whispered secrets flow. Your laugh’s a soft refrain in the cool, blue neon mist, A tender dance of rhythms where heart and soul persist.

عبد الرحمن محمد ♫ قولو لها

ميدلي تامر عاشور

The Night We Met

[I want to do more than
.....survive.
I really want to love.
.....I really want to feel alive.
I'm just saying.
Yeah! Yeah!
I just keeping on praying.]

Oh! There are too few good people in this broken world.
Too few people left
.....to mend all the damage.
Too few left to prevent
the relentless march of
.....crime.
There is little time left
for the good to come good
.....anymore.
There is little time left
for the good to come good
.....anymore.

Some people
reach the point of
never being able to go back.
They lose track.
They lose track when they start
.....repeating old habits,
..........old ways-
ways of indulging old days.
LISTEN TO ME.
LISTEN TO ME.
Some people
reach the point of
never being able to go back.
They lose track.
They lose track when they start
.....repeating old habits,
..........old ways-
ways of indulging
.....in old days.
They bathe in sentiment.
They bathe in sentiment.

[Memories can be so cruel.
They keep fuelling wars.
Countries are like old whores.
Old whores brawling in the
.....street
all over them spoils of
.....dead meat.
We are all of us
.....dead meat walking.]

I still want to do more than
.....survive.
I really want to love.
.....I really want to feel alive.
I still want to do more than
.....survive.
I really want to love.
.....I really want to feel alive.
I still want to do more than
.....survive.
I really want to love.
.....I really want to feel alive.
I want to do more than
.....survive.
I really want to love.
.....I really want to feel alive.

Just saying. Yeah!
Keeping on praying.
Yeah! Yeah!
Keeping on praying.

Listen

LISTEN

Waves and particles colliding in space
Stardust on my face they leave a trace
Through the void we float with cosmic grace
In this system we all find our place.

We Are Connected To The Universe

I can touch the sunset...
The Denim Chronicles by songwriter Edwin H. Balder
Faded blue with frayed old seams
Worn through miles in my jeans
From road trips to concert scenes
Stitched up memories in between
Grass stains from festival fields
Muddy boots from weapon yields
Woodstock warrior signed and sealed
All those moments slowly healed
But time it's got its way
Chasing youth no slow delay
Jeans like stories in decay
Gotta let them go today
Pockets full of ticket stubs
Bar naps and forgotten loves
Denim tales from Mississippi clubs
Vintage threads that fit like gloves
Tears of laughter worn in pride
We faced the storms and wild rides
Frayed medicine for broken tides
Lived those moments side by side
But time it's got its way
Chasing youth no slow delay
Jeans like stories in decay
Gotta let them go today

The Denim Chronicles by songwriter Edwin H. Balder

When the moonlight kisses the city streets, And the stars are waltzing on high, There's a rhythm that flows in our hearts and our feet, With a tune that’ll never say goodbye.

We All Got Love

Purple whispers paint the wind so high
Green clouds twist as the dragons fly
Golden rivers flow where time won't go
Living rainbows bloom on streets we know.

Colors of My Life

In the hush of midnight, where city lights glow low, I wander enchanted streets where whispered secrets flow. Your laugh’s a soft refrain in the cool, blue neon mist, A tender dance of rhythms where heart and soul persist.

Midnight Serenade

The night is alive, the moon starts to sway,
Under the stars, where dreams never stray.
The horns take the lead, a brassy bouquet,
Let the trombones play, oh let them play.

Let The Trombones Play

ولما تلاقينا عبد الرحمن محمد

Peter is a member of STEF (The Performing Rights Society of Iceland) and FTT (The Icelandic Society of Authors & Composers).
He has made around or more than 15 thousand music works, 7 thousand poems and 5 thousand landscape paintings...

Midnight Serenade

Pétur Söebech Quinn

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