Words & Music by Ala Ghawas

Buskers at the corners burning their guitars

Their mothers cried blood when you’re gone

Their girlfriends in a row sketching your face on the walls

With candles in their hands when you’re gone

And I don’t know why you’ve been faking those smiles of yours

And I don’t know why you‘ve been waiting for love to bring you home

They turned your playground into a churchyard

They named it by you when you’re gone

Love is for trade, porn is the currency

And music is forbidden by the lord when you’re gone

And I don’t know why you’ve been faking those smiles of yours

And I don’t know why you‘ve been waiting for love to bring you home

A fragile vagabond in the making on the way to his own shining star

A homeless hobo eternally waking with his soul hanging onto a broken guitar

You’ve been dreaming with your tears run dry

Nobody taught you how to dive or run or fly

I missed your last sigh

Jackie told you: “You better quit this scene, before it leans, before it keens, before it messes up your genes (think about it)”. And I was thinking: “Tell him something more for love’s sake, you’re his god and he’s just fucking sixteen”. He said:” Classrooms won’t do you good, you really should be in Hollywood, if you could, and that’s what I mean”. And I thought: “He was born to feel misunderstood. He was the most ill-fated kid that I have ever seen”

Mothers cried blood when you’re gone

Mothers cried blood when you’re gone

Mothers cried blood when you’re gone

Mothers cried blood when you’re gone

© 2009 Ala Ghawas Records. All Rights Reserved.