မမာနိုင္ေသးတဲ႔ႏွလံုးသား ( ႀသရသ & ခင္စုစုနိုင္ )

သဘာ၀ရဲ႕ ရင္ေသြးငယ္ - စိုင္းထီးဆိုင္

ဂစ္တာမတီးေတာ့တဲ့ညေတြ
ေတးေရး/ဆို - လင္းနစ္
      
V1: ေအးစက္တဲ့ ညေလညင္းေရ... ပူေလာင္ျခင္းေတြ ျငိမ္းသတ္လို႔ ေပးနိုင္မလားေလ
      မေဝးလွတဲ့ အတိတ္ေတြထဲမွာ ေပ်ာ္ရႊင္ျခင္းဟာ အဆံုးသတ္လို႔ သြားျပီေပါ့ကြယ္

Pre:(ဆိုခဲ့ဖူးတဲ့ ဒီသီခ်င္း ေပ်ာက္ဆံုးသြားခဲ့ ၾကင္သူမင္း နင္ဘယ္ရင္ခြင္မွာ ေမွးစက္လို႔ေနမလဲ...)

CHO:[ဂစ္တာအုိုေလးလည္း ငိုေနဆဲ သံစဥ္ေတြလည္း အတိတ္မွာေၾကကြဲ 
         အရင္ဆိုမင္းအနားနားရွိတယ္ ဒီလိုညမ်ိဳးတိုင္းဆို
         ခိုလႈံေနခဲ့ ကိုယ့္ရင္ခြင္ထဲ ၾကင္နာသူေလးအိပ္ေပ်ာ္ေနခဲ့
         သံစဥ္ေတြနဲ႔ ေခ်ာ့သိပ္ခြင့္ကို ျပန္လည္ေပးဦး ကိုယ့္ခ်စ္သူရယ္...]

V2: မင္းေလးအတြက္ေရးတဲ့ သီခ်င္းရယ္ ဒီဂစ္တာေလးရယ္ ဆြံ႕အလို႔သြားျပီေပ့ါကြယ္
      ကိုယ့္ဘဝရဲ႕ မနက္ျဖန္မ်ားေရ အိုဒီလိုပဲဆို ေရွ႕ဆက္လို႔သြားနိုင္ဖို႔မလြယ္

Pre:(ဆိုခဲ့ဖူးတဲ့ ဒီသီခ်င္း ေပ်ာက္ဆံုးသြားခဲ့ ၾကင္သူမင္း နင္ဘယ္ရင္ခြင္မွာ ေမွးစက္လို႔ေနမလဲ...)

CHO:[ဂစ္တာအုိုေလးလည္း ငိုေနဆဲ သံစဥ္ေတြလည္း အတိတ္မွာေၾကကြဲ 
         အရင္ဆိုမင္းအနားနားရွိတယ္ ဒီလိုညမ်ိဳးတိုင္းဆို
         ခိုလႈံေနခဲ့ ကိုယ့္ရင္ခြင္ထဲ ၾကင္နာသူေလးအိပ္ေပ်ာ္ေနခဲ့
         သံစဥ္ေတြနဲ႔ ေခ်ာ့သိပ္ခြင့္ကို ျပန္လည္ေပးဦး ကိုယ့္ခ်စ္သူရယ္...]
http://www.mediafire.com/listen/4rgsns952ic457n/Old_Guitar_(Master).mp3

ဂစ္တာမတီးေတာ့တဲ့ညေတြ

အေဟာင္းဆုိင္

Any Kind of Love is a quiet, powerful tribute to imperfect connection — a collection of songs that embrace the beauty in brokenness, the strength in vulnerability, and the hope that flickers even in the darkest places.

Blending emotional lyricism with raw, intimate melodies, the album speaks to the unspoken—grief, longing, healing, and the courage it takes to be seen. These are anthems for the wounded heart, for those who still believe that love, in any form, is proof we’re alive.

Even cracked. Even scarred. Still love.

Butterfly Hall

It's not the having but the wanting,
That flames the desire and the need,
Fantasy can be confronting,
When the reality can't compete,
Feel the addiction to the rush,
Lost in pursuit of my own lust,

When you have nothing, 
Need is the only thing that's real
When you have everything,
The addiction reminds you how to feel

Where does the yearning start?
The mind's eye or in my heart?
Is it the hunting that I love,
Or is it the Coup de Grace,

The wolf is clawing at the door, 
Get me crawling on all fours
Letting poison drip slowly,
Isn't the same as a cure,
Clearing the path of my own obstructions
Or choose cold comforts of self-destruction,

When you have nothing, 
Need is the only thing that's real
When you have everything,
The addiction reminds you how to feel

Where does the yearning start?
The mind's eye or in my heart?
Is it the hunting that I love,
Or is it the Coup de Grace,

The all-consuming and the consumed,
Abandon myself in your perfume,
When the moment is said and done,
I'll grieve for what we'll never become,
Crafting the objects of your desire,
Can't fill the cavity inside,

When you have nothing, 
Need is the only thing that's real
When you have everything,
The addiction reminds you how to feel

Where does the yearning start?
The mind's eye or in my heart?
Is it the hunting that I love,
Or is it the Coup de Grace,

Is it the Coup de Grace,

Pls feed the animals

Coup de Grace

BREATH OF DAWN captures the experience of standing before an impressionist painting and being moved beyond words.  The lyrics dwell on the in-between moments—where edges blur and time seems to dissolve—mirroring the painter’s loose strokes and luminous colour.  Rather than describing a specific scene, the song lets light, mist and shifting hues speak for themselves, suggesting that art’s power lies in what it awakens rather than what it depicts.  In finding “you there” inside the blur, the narrator discovers a personal connection: the painting becomes a mirror for memory, longing and quiet recognition, turning a fleeting visual impression into an intimate, almost spiritual encounter.

The painting evokes the hush of a world caught between night and day—a fleeting sunrise (or sunset) where the boundary of earth and sky all but dissolves.  The orange disk of the sun burns gently through lavender and rose-tinted mist, its reflection trembling across the water like a slow heartbeat.  Trees and shoreline are reduced to soft silhouettes, so that form yields to pure atmosphere.  It is less a record of a landscape than a meditation on light itself: how color can carry mood, how a single instant of glow and haze can suggest both awakening and farewell.  The image invites quiet contemplation, letting viewers feel the passage of time as something tender, transient, and luminous.

My imaginary artist: Artist: Élise Marceau (1869 – 1942)
Profile:
Born in the port city of Le Havre, Élise Marceau grew up surrounded by shifting tides and the mercurial light of the Normandy coast.  After early lessons in classical draftsmanship, she broke away from strict academic technique in her twenties, drawn to the new Impressionist salons of Paris.  Her work sought “the hush between moments,” painting not the details of the shore but the sensation of its changing light.

Marceau was known for her “luminous minimalism”—broad, feathery strokes that softened the line between sea and sky.  Critics in 1905 described her canvases as “music for the eyes,” praising their ability to turn weather and atmosphere into pure emotion.  She rarely titled her works literally, preferring names like Breath of Dawn or Nocturne in Silver, encouraging viewers to experience mood rather than narrative.

Though she exhibited alongside lesser-known Impressionists in the Salon des Indépendants, she avoided the Paris spotlight, spending much of her later life in a quiet atelier overlooking the Seine estuary.  Her paintings—long overlooked—have found renewed appreciation in the 21st century for their meditative, almost modern abstraction, bridging the late Impressionist era with the emerging sensibilities of atmospheric expressionism.


သံပုံး -Tan Bone တေးဆို - Khup Pi, Phyo Myat Aung, Nano Peace Composer- EuZol

Ye William

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