[Intro – Instrumental Arabic Oriental, desert wind sounds]

[Verse]
Whispers in the market, shadows on the stone
A beggar plucks his oud, a tune so overgrown
Eyes like desert fire, hands that dance unseen
A melody of sorrow hides the blade between

[Verse]
Silk and gold, they walk in pride, oblivious to the gate
A fleeting touch, a breath of fate, they realize too late
The artist bows, his music fades, the crowd begins to roar
Yet no one sees the crimson stain left upon the floor
[Do not repeat the Verse, go to pre-chorus]

[Pre-Chorus]
No face, no name, just echoes in the sand
A fleeting note, a ghostly hand

[Chorus]
Sing, oh oud, the rhythm of blood
A song of justice, carved in the flood
One by one, the wicked fall
And none shall see him leave at all

[Verse]
Underneath the crescent moon, he walks among the damned
Fingers strum a silent tune, the dagger finds its hand
From palace halls to merchant spires, the whispers start to swell
Yet none suspect the humble bard who plays his strings so well

[Verse]
Veiled in robes of flowing dust, he disappears at dawn
The cries of widows fill the streets, but still the blade moves on
No mercy for the rotten kings, no pity for the greed
A requiem in crimson ink, a hymn they’ll never read

[Pre-Chorus]
No face, no name, just echoes in the sand
A fleeting note, a ghostly hand

[Chorus]
Sing, oh oud, the rhythm of blood
A song of justice, carved in the flood
One by one, the wicked fall
And none shall see him leave at all

[Bridge – in Arabic]
"لحن الدم، أغنية السماء
كل ظالم يسقط، لن ينجو أحد"

[Outro]
Night embraces, the music fades
Another name erased in the shade
The oud still plays, though none can tell
For he is gone—like wind through a shell

[End Song]
[End Instrumental]
[End]