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khanoom - BabakAfra - بابک افرا

عاشقان تازه به تازه از بهاران چه خبر؟
از بهار از گل و باغ و بوی باران چه خبر؟

چشم اگر از غم بپوشی سر اگر از خزان برآری
صد هزاران جوانه دارم در هوایم اگر بباری

بخوان زیر باران که یار توام
تو عید منی من بهار توام
اگر شب تبر میزند نیافتاده ام که در سایه سار توام
بگو با زمین و زمان که تا آخرین نفس بیقرار توام

تو در شب من جوانه نوری
بیا که مرا نمانده صبوری
به شعر شبانه به باغ زمانه تو عطر بهاری
خوشا تو بخندی خوشا تو بخوانی خوشا تو بمانی

همایون شجریان انوشیروان روحانی -  یادگارعمر ( عاشقان )

The Mosh Pit Moan (r)

A soft Latin Jazz feel 
1940’s style 
Lyrics song concept by Sas 


[Intro]

It was opening ,
Night, 
November the Tenth , 
Nineteen forty . 
The atmosphere,
Was electric, 
But tension was, 
In the air. 

We walk in the, 
Club, 

The Copacabana
club

With my best, 
Man, 
Eyes fixated on us. 

the pretty ,Chicas,
All got up,Together.
One table, then,
Another.
( mmm ) ,
In their sexy dresses,
Red, black, white, blue ( hot )
Their Hair, 
Their Lips full & red , 
Earrings glittering ,
Expensive jewellery, To match. 
Smiles on their Faces,
Lust in their eyes. 
Husbands, partners unhappy. 

The beautiful, 
Brazilian decor, 
The orchestra,
Playing Latin music. 
The food, 
Fine Chinese food. 
You could see, that, 
No, 
Expense was spared here. 

The Gangsters ,
With their drawn
Out faces.
Not very happy,
Whispering,
Chatter amongst one another, 
Looking At us. 

Us, in Our suits, 
Immaculate,
Me in black ,
My best man, 
All in white. 
Shoes shining.
They had ,
Just been polished ,
Before , we ,
Entered the club. 

Frank Costello,
The Mob ,
Boss ,
Comes walking, 
Towards us, 
Cigar in ,
One hand, 
An Outstretched arm, 
With the other. 
Greets us,
And with a click [fingers click twice]
Waiters, and, 
hostesses ( so stunning ) ,
Take us to our table ,
Right up the front. 

With Frankie
Baby. 

It was opening ,
Night, 
November the Tenth , 
Nineteen forty . 
The atmosphere,
Was electric, 
But tension was, 
In the air, in the air. 

My best man, 
An African man, 
Me an Italian man. 

You could smell,
The racism in the air, 
The odour, The stench.
It was Ready to erupt.
it wasn’t too long, Before, 
our wish to settle ,
Some scores, ( old scores ),

Was about, 
 to get real here. 

The whites got up, 
My best man and 
Me, Got up too.
Our Hands moved down, 
To our sides,
Our guns ready.[click clack]

Each man followed ,
Gangsters, 
( all ready ).

Frank got up from his Table near us.

He had been talking, 
To some ladies, 
When all of the sudden, 
the, 
Police burst through The doors. 

Everyone,
just looked at each other,
Gangsters,
My best man and me. 
No one willing to
Make the first move. 

It was opening ,
Night, 
November the Tenth , 
Nineteen forty . 
The atmosphere,
Was electric, 
But tension was, 
In the air. 

You could smell,
The racism in the air, 
The odour, The stench.
It was Ready to erupt, 
And it wasn’t too long,
Before, 
our wish to settle ,
Some scores, ( old scores ) ,
Was about to get real. 

[Outro]

With a wink 

to the mobsters.

We said ,
“To be continued”.

And a , 
smile 
( A gun gesture I made towards them )

“Some, OTHER time. “

Ciao.

Zohre Mordad|babak afra بابک افرا|ظهر مرداد

Farin

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