Roya Arab

Iranian Musician and Archaeologist

On the car journey into Paris, where we recorded this song, I saw a very sad man crossing our path, who unbeknownst to him became the protagonist.

A la Maniére (Arab, Rebotini)

Tout le monde est triste de temps en temps

Smiling to bring better thoughts
For this unhappy man crossing my path
Hope he’s got a place, he’s reaching out

Where’s the light, his corridors of confusion
For tonight he’s alone
Selecting solitary meals
Fortune’s wheel please turn his way

Scented rose knows not his pain
So consuming as he passes our way
Autumn leaves embrace his fall
From grace of yesterday’s warming rays

A sa maniére, à ta maniére, à ma maniére, au leur maniére

So sad, as he passes our way
As life span increases, disguised truths
Barely concealed, blinkered eyes
What to see, what to see

Is she coming tonight, tender with love
Is she coming tonight, tender with love
For tomorrow he may be gone.