Words & Music by Ala Ghawas

The sound of your sweet breath, triggers death, bends into the telephone

It cages my bitter bones in your frozen zone

The mathematical love of yours still ignores my fanatical care

And you just can’t declare your religious mind is spacing elsewhere

So you freeze my burning sun with words like bullets from a gun

And I’m lost here on the run between what you’ve said and done

Between our prophet’s son and your orphan

Tacit terms adorn your lips, deceiving tips, they mess with my head

They lead my sugary dread to my sweet deathbed

And my desire remains unfed; I’m cutting my roots so deep so you said: 

“Run baby run, you’re better off than dead”

My blood is on the gory line between your prophet and mine 

But the misery you designed and the sorrow you defined

Is so beautiful and divine

What’s the cost of dying in your arms?

I killed and drilled to know ya

I crossed the ocean to show ya

You’re etched on my skin

I wailed and jailed to steal ya

I bled my heart to feel ya

And you’re worth all my sins

What’s the cost of dying in your arms?

© 2009 Ala Ghawas Records. All rights reserved.