I’m sure a few of you can relate to this scenario:

“My new social environment in Beirut demanded that I be more feminine-looking. It demanded that girls look like girls and boys like boys. It demanded that I style my hair weekly at the hairdresser. Adorn my fingernails with bright polish. Speak softly and giggle often. Wear clothes that hugged my body, to show off my childbearing hips. No one knew how to deal with my tomboyish personality. My aunt would sigh every time I walked in with dirty sandals. My grandmother would shrug her shoulders when she saw me in torn-up jeans. And my cousins believed I was a hopeless case and that no one would ever marry me. How could anyone marry someone who only wore white baggy T-shirts?”– Zeina el Khalil (Beirut, I Love You)

Posted on: Half and Half << A fresh outlook on Lebanese culture through the eyes of Colette (a 24-year old American who recently moved to the Middle East)

I quit gambling about two or three years ago. I have only gambled once since then. When Trevor Hansen gave me ten dollars for roulet in Reno this past year. I couldn’t do it anymore. For awhile I would win and then the little wins weren’t good enough and the little losses didn’t matter because I had lost more at an earlier time. Then the big wins didn’t happen as often and the big losses happened more. This is when you realize how much worthwhile things you are able to do with a couple hundred dollars.  Like giving money to a charity or paying your tithe. My sisters boyfriend and amazing friend Jordan Konow showed me this. A lot of music you hear on here is from him. He’s actually the person who showed me Arcade Fire awhile ago. Nantes by Beirut off the album Flying Club Cup.

The body of British journalist Alec Collett who was executed by Palestinian militants has been found this week in Lebanon after a 24-year hunt.

The search for the 64-year-old’s remains, organised by the British embassy in Lebanon, began last week in the eastern region of Bekaa after the excavation team received a tip-off.

Alec Collett's body was found in Lebanon after 24-year hunt

Both the British Foreign Office and the UN Relief and Works Agency for Palestine Refugees (UNRWA) confirmed the DNA results Monday.

Collett, who was on an United Nations assignment covering refugee camps in Lebanon, was kidnapped at gun-point by a Palestinian terrorist group known as Abu Nidal during the height of Lebanon’s civil war in 1985.

The team of Metropolitan counterterrorism police and two forensic archaeologists found the bones at a site formerly used as a military base by the group near the border with Syria.

The UN gave their condolences in a statement released by Secretary-General Ban Ki-Moon’s spokeswoman. “He is grateful for the work done by the Department of Safety and Security in helping to determine what happened to Mr Collett.

“Although he is saddened by Alec Collett’s death, he hopes that the actions taken to find his remains can provide a measure of comfort to his loved ones,” the statement said.

Private arrangements are being made to fly the body back to his family, according to Britain’s Foreign Office, who said they were “pleased to have closure after so long.”

Abu Nidal’s leader, Sabri al-Banna, had reportedly thought that hostage Collett could be swapped for three members jailed in Britain after the attempted assassination in 1982 of Shlomo Argov, the Israeli ambassador to London.

One year after he went missing with no exchange made, his captors killed Collett and released a grainy video showing a hooded figure that appeared to have been hanged, though no positive identification could be made.

Collett was one of at least 88 foreigners to be kidnapped in Lebanon between 1984 and 1991. Fourteen of which were British nationals, including television reporter John McCarthy.

Until this week, the United Nations had tried four times in vain to find the body of the missing Briton.

They expressed relief the body had finally been unearthed this week and that their searches had paid off. “The secretary-general appreciates the role played by the relevant authorities in the United Kingdom and in Lebanon to resolve this matter after so many years.”

Det är vackrast när det skymmer – it’s most beautiful at dusk. The Beiruti sky was amazing the other day.

AUB

The Corniche

I’d like to republish this article from the Daily Star which reports about the Beirut Media Forum , a conference I just attended in Beirut.

Print

Copyright (c) 2009 The Daily Star

Tuesday, November 24, 2009

Beirut forum explores impact of media on activism in the Middle East

By Farah-Silvana Kanaan Special to The Daily Star

BEIRUT: Media experts gathered Friday to discuss the interaction between media, web use and social, political and religious mobilization in the Middle East. The fifth Beirut Media Forum brought together the media-savvy for 10 lectures addressing obstacles facing socio-political documentary filmmakers and the rise of online social activism and citizen journalism in the Arab region. The forum, this year entitled, “Mobilizations on stage: The Image of the Real and the Verity of the Image,” is organized annually by the Institut Francais du Proche Orient, the Friedrich Ebert Foundation and the Orient-Institute Beirut. Patrick Hazard, anthropologist and director of the London International Documentary Festival was skeptical about documentary filmmaking being  a tool to jump-start social change. “Documentary filmmakers are usually surrounded by this mystique of being independent thinkers and actors. They often have this romanticized idea that they are merely bearing witness and giving voice to the voiceless when, in reality, they are quite a conservative bunch vis a vis the political status quo,” Hazard said, adding funders often exert considerable influence over film content, which “automatically creates a tension between ethical concerns and economic interests.” “In my experience, those economic interests are usually the key concern for most parties involved,” he added. Naomi Sakr, director of the Communication and Media Research Institute Arab Media Center at the University of Westminster in London, meanwhile spoke about ongoing structural changes in the Arab media industry and advances in digital technology on documentary films. According to Sakr, the expansion of television channels has sparked a demand for content that attracts young and elite viewers. At the same time, more young directors are filming more cheaply and discreetly and are using alternative means to distribute their products. “A result of this phenomenon has been a rise in films exploring socio-political issues that were previously rarely acknowledged in the agenda of conventional Arab news media,” she said. Sakr said one of the biggest issues in the Middle East was that many documentaries often did not end up being screened. One such example is “Jihad on Horseback,” a highly critical 2003 documentary about the conflict in Darfur, produced by Al-Arabiyya television. The film was never aired by Al-Arabiyya because of a private campaign against it by Sudanese politicians, although it was later bought and distributed by the International Crisis Group. “Cooperation between political powers is crucial to a documentary film being made and screened,” Sakr said. A filmmaker’s personal connections with local political leaders or other influential personalities, known in the Mideast as wasta (nepotism) also plays a key role. Italian political scientist Do­natella Della Ratta spoke about the Arab social web by discuss­ing her findings on how online networks were re-shaping off­line action in the Arab world. The social web, she explained, is viewed as the second generation of the web and relies heavily on user-generated content, communities, networking and social interaction. It “offers two key elements ingrained in the Western political system of democracy, namely representation and mediation.” The social Arab web is empowering citizen journalism and civic participation by giving voice to “ordinary people,” Della Ratta said. This form of citizen journalism was used during Lebanon’s June parliamentary elections by the Sharek961 website. The site enabled Lebanese citizens to promote transparency by sending in eyewitness reports on all election-related incidents or issues through text messages and the website. However, as Della Ratta admitted, the percentage of people in the Arab world who engage in such forms of social activism, or even have Internet access, is relatively low. “I would argue that in the Arab world you will find a qualitative rather than a quantitative audience, small in size but young and educated,” she said. Christophe Varin, director of the Center for the Study of the Modern Arab World at Universite Saint-Joseph, expressed doubt that new media was leading to political mobilization in Lebanon. Varin has analyzed YouTube videos in relation to political mobilization since the so-called Cedar Revolution protests in 2005. He argued that YouTube, rather than providing a platform for civic participation and activism, was mostly another outlet for violence. “The comments posted under YouTube videos are often used as a platform for linguistic violence,” he said, noting that many web users similarly post videos to solely express their opinions rather than in the hope of inspiring real debate or consensus. But Varin did agree with Della Ratta that a new form of citizen journalism has been catapulted into society, filling the gaps created by traditional media. “The Lebanese new media are going through a de-politicization process,” he said.

Copyright (c) 2009 The Daily Star

Thought I’d post some shots with street art from in and around Hamra. This first one is very classical, not a fascinating piece of art maybe, but I like that it’s in Arabic. What better language to do graffiti in than stylish and beautiful Arabic? For those of you who having trouble deciphering the letters, the text says “Graffiti from Beirut”.

Stencil art is hugely popular here. Love it.

The classic silhouette above belongs of iconic Egyptian singer Umm Kulthum, here saying “boos elwawa” meaning “kiss the wound”, or, a qualified guess, like the English expression “kiss and make it better”.

And finally, a message of love. Yalla!

I’m not going to make any overly outlandish statements about the quality of the saga I am commenting on.  The series is entertaining and honestly an interesting read if you are out of things to do on a certain weekend.  The writing is both obtuse and flawed yet in many ways it seems to work for Meyers. I don’t have a problem with the books as much as I do the movies, which have spread this phenomenon beyond the realm of Harry Potter, into the world of popular trend, where it becomes mandated to become a “Twi-hard” or risk social banishment.  On opening night, movies theatres were not filled, but packed beyond capacity with teenage girls eagerly awaiting a topless scene with a werewolf or a witty grin from a vampire.  This occurrence is manageable however, in comparison to what this series has done to the “underground indie” genre we music fans embrace.  I can no longer listen to Muse without picturing the vast and endless masses of teenage girls listening to the same song only because they heard it in their favorite movie (a problem in itself).  Iron & Wine survived this “Twilight mutilation” because they do not have enough pop appeal to attract the insatiable and ruthless crowd consisting mainly of teenage girls.   The New Moon soundtrack (which for those of you who don’t follow the series is the second release) continued on its destruction of good indie.  Bon Iver (one of my favorite bands), Grizzly Bear and Thom Yorke were all thrown to the masses.  Some of whom will never return. It’s a pity that such good artists are becoming just another trend in pop culture.

Here are a few tracks that are (thus-far) relatively obscure and Twi-hard free:

___________________________________________________________

Temazcal – Monsters Of Folk

http://listen.grooveshark.com/#/song/Temazcal_album_/23188326

_____________________________________________________

Rumpus Reprise – Karen O and the Kids (get the entire album)

http://listen.grooveshark.com/#/song/Rumpus_Reprise/23232562

___________________________________________________________

Glósóli – Sigur Rós (check out the music video as well)

http://listen.grooveshark.com/#/song/Gl_s_li/7763300

_____________________________________________________

Elephant Gun – Beirut

http://listen.grooveshark.com/#/song/Elephant_Gun/1048627

Hope You Enjoy!

Viva La Musica!

Maid in Lebanon found hanged from her employer's balcony

It is being called modern-day slavery by human rights groups, and is claiming the lives of hundreds of women each year in the Middle East.

You wouldn’t think it, but domestic labor is a deadly business for migrants here, where up to 30 women have committed suicide, or died trying to escape intolerable working conditions in the last few weeks alone.

Rather than being anomalies, unfortunately, their deaths are the most recent in an alarming trend.

The women, mainly from developing countries Ethiopia, Sri Lanka and the Philippines, come in their millions to the Middle East in search of better pay and opportunities, but soon discover the move comes at a higher price.

Last month, 26-year-old Ethiopian Matente Kebede Zeditu, was found hanged from an olive tree in southern Lebanon. Kassaye Atsegenet, 24, jumped from the seventh floor of a Beirut building days later, having left a suicide note. Another, a Madagascan named only as Mampionona, leapt from the balcony to escape her high-rise virtual prison, tired of the daily grind of cleaning and minding the children.

Without the legislation to protect their basic human rights and with little access to justice in their host countries, sadly it is not uncommon for many women working as maids to experience forced confinement, food deprivation, excessively long hours and even sexual abuse at the hands of their employers.

One of the girls left a simple parting message for her employer, reading “Here are your f***ing bedsheets, Madame. I will not be cleaning them today,” before tying a noose around her neck and jumping from the balcony.

“She is one of the brave ones,” a young woman named Angelique working as a maid for a Lebanese family in Beirut tells me. “I think about killing myself almost every day. When I am hanging clothes out to dry, I watch the tiny people going by from the seventh floor and wonder how long it would take me to hit the ground.”

At 19-years-old, Angelique should not be thinking about ways to end her life, but that is all she has done since leaving her home in rural Ethiopia eight months ago.

“Anything would be better than my life as it is now,” she says, during the first time out of her employer’s house in over two months.

Angelique, who did not wish to give her full name, has had her hair cut short by her female employer, who complained she looked too pretty with it long. She is forced to wear the traditional pink maid’s uniform six days a week, 14 hours a day, and sleeps on the floor of the kitchen.

Like many other women in her situation, she was lured to the Middle East with false promises made by the agency that employed her. These agencies sell women to “sponsors,” or employers, who then pay wages depending on their nationality.

The newest on the market; Nepalese women can earn as little as $150 a month, while the older hands, the Filipinos, known for their good English and affable manner, can make as much as $300.

Angelique gets just $175, which she sends home to support her family each month. “But I don’t get paid if I am ‘bad’,” she says, “or when Madame is not in a good mood. I didn’t get any money for four months when she was arguing with her husband.”

It is not surprising human rights workers in the region are calling it slavery when these women are literally being worked to death, often for nothing in return.

US-based organization Human Rights Watch has found that at least one woman dies a week in parts of the Middle East, while many more are injured trying to escape their abusive employers and harsh working conditions.

Lebanon, Jordan, UAE and Kuwait have seen the highest suicide rates, where it is not uncommon for women to have passports confiscated or to be locked inside the house for years at a time.

In the past year, both Ethiopia and the Philippines took the step of banning all travel to Lebanon and Jordan due to the high number of suspicious deaths among the domestic worker community.

 The ban has only pushed the trade underground, however, and agencies in the two countries now smuggle women through third countries like Yemen. As long as there are women from developing countries desperate enough to be smuggled in, the onus should be on the countries letting it happen to pass the legislation ensuring their basic human rights.

Yet all but three countries in the Middle East have refused to sign the 1990 International Convention on the Protection of the Rights of All Migrant Workers, as cheap labor makes up an integral part of the region’s economy.

Not even the needless deaths of hundreds of women have given governments the impetus to sign; leaving migrant workers’ rights the gap in the law that seems no one is willing to fill.

Middle Eastern countries should sign the convention, or at least introduce their own labor laws, in order to stop more women returning home to their families in coffins.

Iloubnan.info

Détrôné par Dubaï au fil des ans, Beyrouth compte redevenir une destination privilégiée pour le luxe au Moyen-Orient, avec l’implantation de grands noms tel Dior ou Louis Vuitton, et des “souks” modernes qui offriront le nec plus ultra du shopping.

 

20/11/2009 http://professionals.visitcostadelsol.com/bd/mostrar_noticia.php?ident=855&tipo=eventos

Beirut’s Zach Condon announced today that he’s in a new band Volcan Flamingo with Tim Kingsbury of Arcade Fire, Josh Todd of Bark Cat Bark, and Julian Koster of Neutral Milk Hotel. The group is working on a new vinyl EP limited to 500 copies on the record label 4AD, set for summer 2010. Check out his message here.

“Keep your eyes open and ears…open?”

(watch out for the little sufjan cover!)

“If I was young, I’d flee this town
I’d bury my dreams underground”

εδώ τα λόγια είναι περιττά. άργησαν λίγο αλλά εμφανίστηκαν στο video of the day.
beirut.

The times we had
Oh, when the wind would blow with rain and snow
Were not all bad
We put our feet just where they had, had to go
Never to go

And I will love to see that day
That day is mine
When she will marry me outside with the willow trees
And play the songs we made
They made me so
And I would love to see that day
Her day was mine

άλλα 2 κλιπ. απλά δε μπορώ να συγκρατηθώ.

If I was young, I’d flee this town
I’d bury my dreams underground
As did I, we drink to die, we drink tonight

And it rips through the silence of our camp at night
And it rips through the silence, all that is left is all that I hide

Well it’s been a long time, long time now
since I’ve seen you smile.
And I’ll gamble away my fright.
And I’ll gamble away my time.
And in a year, a year or so
this will slip into the sea
Well, it’s been a long time, long time now
since I’ve seen you smile

Nobody raise your voices
Just another night in Nantes
Nobody raise your voices
Just another night in Nantes

After spending 10 awesome days in Beirut, getting off the plane on November 14 was a pretty depressing moment. I’d forgot how much I missed the smell of Egypt; dry air, pollution, rotting trash, and in this case, jet fuel. I texted Ian, and told him to get excited for all the goodies that we were bringing home. Because nothing screams “I just spent 2 weeks in Beirut” quite like some bottles of wine, a ridiculous array of Hezbollah merch, and an imported, $8 copy of The New Yorker.

Customs and passport control went easily enough. Carrying a hundred or so dollars worth of gifts and other stuff I bought in Lebanon, I walked straight for the “nothing to declare” gate and walked right through without question. At passport control, the woman actually just glanced at my residency permit and stamped me. This was mildly disappointing, considering the reactions that various other kids in my program have faced when they show their residency permits upon re-entering the country. Wait, you live here? I don’t understand. Are you sure you have residency, this looks like the stamp but that just doesn’t make any sense? Hold on, you actually chose to reside here? Did America kick you out or something? I’m sorry, go buy another tourist visa and then let’s try this process over again.

Ben and I grabbed our checked bag and headed for the airport exit. I turned to Ben: “get ready to get harassed.” My fourth favorite thing in Egypt, after the trash, food (can I group trash and food together, as they are basically indistinguishable here?), and stray cats is definitely being harassed. The first time I came though the Cairo airport, I got rushed by a few dozen cab drivers within seconds of exiting. They all promised me the same “Egyptian price” since I spoke some Arabic with them, but the price was only Egyptian in the sense that it would’ve fed an Egyptian family for a few years.

And then something very strange happened; I walked into the airport arrival hall to find it nearly empty. No screaming cabbies. No screaming children. No cats. No ninjas. Actually, there were no cabbies at all. What the fuck, I thought? This isn’t Cairo. And then I remembered:

Before leaving Lebanon, we had received an email from the U.S. State Department warning Americans in Egypt of an upcoming soccer match between the Egyptian and Algerian national teams in Cairo on November 14. Not just any match, but the last World Cup qualifying match. Egypt generally has decent soccer teams (they won the last African Cup of Nations), but this year they’ve managed to shit the bed in World Cup qualifying. Coming into this game, Egypt found itself one spot removed from the last African seed that makes the cup. They had to beat Algeria by 3 to secure the spot. If they won by 2, they’d force a playoff next week; a one-point win or a loss would send them home.

The State Department warned us that if Egypt wins, expect crazy traffic and joyous rioting. If Egypt loses, expect crazy traffic and destructive rioting. In a few paragraphs, they basically advised any Americans in Cairo to grab a few Stellas from Drinkies and download a decent movie, because they ain’t gonna be doing anything or going anywhere the night of the 14th.
As far as the Egyptians were concerned though, this game might as well be the Super Bowl. In reality, it was more like a must-win game in Week 16 that ensures that the team can go on to play for a playoff spot in Week 17. Hardly worth rioting over, win or lose, unless of course you’re from Cleveland and remaining competitive in Week 16 is rarer than a democratic election in the Middle East. And since Egypt is basically the Cleveland of the international community, I guess they can justify rioting over this game.

Well shit, I thought, that’s a win-lose situation for Egypt, but a lose-lose situation for me. On any other night of the year, I’d gladly join my Egyptian brethren in lighting some couches and stray cats on fire after a big soccer victory, but tonight, I was already facing a 3-hour trip back to Alexandria in the middle of the night and riots and traffic weren’t going to make that journey and more fun. My plane was set to touch down around 9:30, about half an hour after the end of the soccer match. In the terminal of the Beirut airport, we caught the first half hour of the game. Egypt scores, 1-0; shit.

We board the plane for a quick, easy, and for the following reason, rather enjoyable flight. In a moment of identity crisis, caught between its desire to be a functioning, western company and its obligations as primary air carrier for most of the Muslim world, EgyptAir accidentally served ham on this flight. HAM. And not just one type of ham either; it was a delicious ham medley consisting of both chunks and slices, topped off with a moist and chewy brownie. It was as if EgyptAir knew that Ben and I would be flying that day and decided to ceremoniously sacrifice the last pig in Egypt on our behalf. I could tell from the terse, whispered conversations taking place in the adjacent rows after the food was served that Ben and I were probably going to be the only passengers that ate the ham. I guess you know the food in a given country sucks when the best meal that you eat there is airplane food.

The plane touches down and it’s our captain speaking: Egypt wins, 2-0. The plane erupts with cheers and high-fives. I talk to the friendly Egyptian sitting next to me, and learn that the tiebreaker will be later in the week, but for now, only celebrations. I think, well, at least now I’ll get to read some entertaining half-English, half what-the-fuck-Egyptian-colloquial-is-not-even-a-language facebook status updates from my Egyptian friends in the dorm.

So back to the arrival hall of the Cairo airport. Puzzled by the lack of screaming cabbies near the exit, Ben and I head outside. It’s a pleasant evening; I thought maybe the clamoring hordes decided to hang out on the sidewalk instead. Nothing. Some men in gallabiyyas taking part in Egypt’s national pastime- wandering around aimlessly. Ben and I find a uniformed airport employee and ask him where we might find a cab; “in the parking lot,” he answers. We cross the street and walk to the parking lot. Nothing. Well, this blows.

Ben and I had planned on leaving Cairo at 10 PM in a taxi and arriving smoothly back to Alexandria 3 hours later. Sure a car would be a bit expensive, but it was a small price to pay to avoid the expensive airport taxi to train station to other train station to cheap taxi to bait al-tulaab shitshow with all of our bags that would have ensued otherwise. The only problem was, there wasn’t a single car for hire in the entire Cairo airport because of the soccer match. At 10:30, I decide to go talk to an airport employee. He directs me to the limousine/bus service office, which is also closed because of the soccer match. Lacking anything better to do, I go to the bank to exchange my last Lebanese Lira (tear) for some Egyptian guinea. Big surprise, there is no employee at the bank. (As I waited, however, I did meet another American traveler who I have now confirmed to be the dumbest man alive. Like Ayn Rand st00pid. I had a long conversation with him that was so inane it merits an entire future blog post to itself.) Then I peed; apparently the bathrooms in Egypt don’t close for soccer.

Back on the sidewalk, its nearly 11:30 and still no taxis. A Mongol horde of Asian tourists donning flu-masks and taking peace-sign pictures outside the airport walks by and leaves in huge tour buses. I hate to reinforce stereotypes, but Jesus, sometimes its just too easy. We call Ian again and get the number of a guy that drove him from Cairo to Alexandria one time a few months ago. Sensing that this may be our last chance to avoid sleeping on the pavement, we dial him, and wa’allahi begat, he answers: “wait twenty minutes, and I’ll pick you up. I know a guy who you can ride on him to Alexandria.” (Mastering prepositions is the hardest part of learning a language; this goes for Arabic and English).

So we wait, and exactly 20 minutes later he calls us back: “lots of traffic, wait 15 more minutes.” Exactly 15 minutes later, he calls again: “more traffic, wait another 6 minutes.” Exactly 45 minutes later, he calls again and asks where we’re waiting in the airport. Terminal 3. So at exactly 1:00 AM, over three hours after our flight landed, we get into what literally might be first cab to have passed through Cairo airport that evening.

Our luck was such that the soccer stadium just happened to be on the same road that led from the airport to the Cairo-Alex highway. A few miles in, traffic just stopped. Egyptians were running through the streets screaming, waving flags, standing on cars, and banging drums. It was actually pretty awesome. Shockingly enough, the riot was made up of both girls and boys; apparently we were in a more liberal, upper-middle class suburb of Cairo. We stopped to get gas at a convenience store and I walked in to buy water. The place was full of Egyptians around my age, smoking cigarettes, crushing bottles of Amstel Zero, and shouting obscenities. Prominently situated next to the cash register was a Trojan display with both condoms and a veritable buffet of lubes. Haraam 3layk, a liberal suburb indeed!

The traffic cleared in about an hour, and we quickly made our way to the Cairo-Alex desert highway. By 4:30 AM, nearly four hours later than expected, I was home. Facing a test in my 9 AM class I thought, well, Egypt wins, I lose, welcome back. And then I promptly decided to skip class and sleep til 2 the next day; I guess Egypt and I both won.

tão bonita.

For every day that passes, I like Hamra, where I spend most of my time since this is where both my place and the university are, more and more. Gemmayze on the other side of downtown Beirut has definitely got a nice vibe as well, with pretty buildings, winding little side streets and excellent drinking and clubbing. I love to go there, during the day for killing a few hours at a café, or at night for some of that first-class Beiruti party life.

I’m very happy to be in Hamra though, for being conveniently close to AUB of course, but also for the unmistakably friendly and folksy atmosphere. And, the very best cafés in the city. Favorite spots are combined library and café/pub Ta Marbuta, artsy De Prague, hugely popular and laid back Café Younes, and Bread Republic, not least for their excellent lentil soup and super delicious homemade crispbread. I bought the goodie bag below the other day for only 3000 Lebanese pounds ($2), filled with crispbread of different flavours: thyme, cumin, paprika or sesame and poppy seeds. Delicious!

The times we had
Oh, when the wind would blow with rain and snow
Were not all bad
We put our feet just where they had, had to go
Never to go

The shattered soul
Following close but nearly twice as slow
In my good times
There were always golden rocks to throw
at those who admit defeat too late
Those were our times, those were our times

And I will love to see that day
That day is mine
When she will marry me outside with the willow trees
And play the songs we made
They made me so
And I would love to see that day
Her day was mine