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lirik lagu telephone – montaghedin

[english lyrics]
sometimes i feel like
picking up the phone
and calling a random number
and with a person who doesnt know me or know what i can do for them, have a conversation and vent
with a person who, who will listen to montaghedin’s (critics) voice

[phone dialing…]

h*llo
[h*llo]
i’m morteza
[“morteza?”]
yeah i’m morteza, and i wanted a favor
[“sorry, i dont recognize you?”]
that’s no problem, it’s not just you, life doesnt recognize me either
life is a deal where you give dollars, but the profit is in rial
were in episode 1 right now, but unfortunately it’s like a sеries

[“sir, tell me what you want or i’ll decline”]
ma’am, to be honest you dont know mе
you spend hours behind the mirror
let 2 minutes of your time be mine
i’m your compatriot
i want a set of ears to hear me
break the curse of my sadness
let me ask you a question
do you also have a grudge in your throat like me?
does the person next to you also not understand you like me?
does your happiness always come from an empty place like me?
do you walk with indifference when you pass someone on the street?
do you hide your smile from the flower girls (hand sellers) of the street?
is your husband in jail with striped clothes because of the prenup?
do you also send your wife to the mecca, so you can be with your receptionist for a couple of days?
oh, good old days
in the metaphors, behind these clouds we had a sun
which was supposed to come out one day
which was supposed to come out one day

[voice mail]
[“to connect to the operator, press 1”]

[“goodmorning, how can i help you?”]
sorry ma’am, i want my dad’s phone number
[“their name or their adress please?”]
his name is hadi, i think he rests in heaven
[heaven street… what’s the house number?]
but ma’am, does heaven have street numbers?
who ever is there just has a clean heart
there, there’s no news of these busy streets
all these lies
and no one gets depressed from reading the poets of forough
but here, the news is about war
the youth’s minds are full of bang (drugs)
like hormuz all the way are tight
if you blink an eye, everything leave your grip
but they say, there, life is beautiful

[“sir, i will report your number, stop wasting my time”]
what do you say we end this game?
can you transfer me directly to god?
i want to complain
about his humans
if he asked who it is
say it is someone who’s ribs are crushed by the pressure of life
everyone around them swears that they are wounded
on their body, the guilt of a hundred stitches
but when the time comes
the same people will become worse than the others

[“the number you have dialed is not in reach”]

- montaghedin

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