هذا حالي هيك خذيني مع مصاري أو بلاكيف مش مبالي لا أنا هيني ماشي وهيني بحرث زي الماكينة
لو قالوي أغزو بلد لقتل كتّاب الشعر وكل حامل قلمهاي أفكار مش بس بتنكتب هاي ألحان تتغنّى لولد الولدولو صار و ما حد كتب ما أسهل تمحي اسم أي بلد
وحب وما بيكفيها قال وفن ما بطعميش الولاد والناس الناس شو بدها تحكي عنكوا الناسوعرس يلبّسها ألماس وبيت بحارة هاي كلاس للناس للناس بس لنعبّي عيون الناسوانت ساكنه هون وهاد مش أي بلد
this is my condition, take me as i am, with or without moneycareless? no i'm not, i'm walking and working like a machine!
if they ask me to invade a country, i'd kill all the poetry writers, and every pen holder (means Writers)these are thoughts, not just to be written, they are melodies to be sung "till son of the son!" (Arabic Proverb refers to long-term)and if this happens and no one ever write; how easy it is to erase any country's name!
and Love, not enough for herand Art, cannot feed kids (means it's useless, cannot make money)and people, people what would they say about you?
and wedding that gives her diamond, and a house in a high-class neighborhoodfor people, for people, it's all just for making people satisfied!
if they ask me to invade a country, i'd kill all the poetry writers, and every pen holder (means Writers)these are thoughts, not just to be written, they are melodies to be sung "till son of the son!" (Arabic Proverb refers to long-term)and if this happens and no one ever write; how easy it is to erase any country's name!
AND YOU'RE LIVING HERE IN MY HEART, AND IT'S NOT JUST ANY COUNTRY