I find the map and draw a straight line
Over rivers, farms, and state lines
The distance from 'A' to where you'd be
It's only finger-lengths that I see
I touch the place where I'd find your face
My fingers in creases of distant dark places
I hang my کوٹ up in the first bar
There is no peace that I've found so far
The laughter penetrates my silence
As drunken men find flaws in science
Their words mostly noises
Ghosts with just voices
Your words in my memory
Are like موسیقی to me
I'm miles from where آپ are,
I lay down on the cold ground
I, I pray that something picks me up
And sets me down in your warm arms...
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