In youth I lay awake to the colorless man on my TV
He spoke of a desert land one where they look a bit like me
And with a malaise voice, he spoke of said coming atrocities
I fall asleep at night tucked deep inside their imperial dreams
Is love like Arab oil? Do we take take take till it's depleted?
Is love like Arab oil? Do we die for someone else's scheme?
Years later I heard the cry like live here first on Kurdish radio, oh-ohh, Kurdish radio, ah-ahh
Black blood washes the concrete of my beloved city's streets
So quick we learn that there is no promise land by which they speaked
And on that day I heard the cry like live here first on Kurdish radio, oh-ohh, Kurdish radio, ah-ahh
The war is here
The war is there
The war it's in your head
The war it sparks revolution
Now every time I try I know the cry like Kurdish radio, oh-ohh, ah-ahh, Kurdish radio, oh-ohh, ah-ahh
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