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Hayotning Ranglari 2 by Usmonov

SongGPT
Hayotning Ranglari 2 by Usmonov - pop music cover art

Hayotning Ranglari 2

pop

0:002:58
Lyrics
Description
windows fogged by midnight breaths, city sighs in restless sheets,
old shoes by the door, worn thin from chasing faded streets.
coffee stains on your notebook pages, scribbled lines that never sleep,
i trace the cracks in the pavement, where the summer memories seep.
and the clock hands tremble in the quiet, ticking slow like a heartbeat’s call,
every second folding stories into shadows on the wall.
colors spill in wild bursts, painting moments that won’t wait,
life’s not tied to perfect scripts, but mess and hope and scattered fate.
hold the chaos, breathe the brown leaves, catch the dawn before it frays,
every shade beneath the storm, lighting up the passing days.
(lighting up the passing days)
your voice lingers in the hallway, half a laugh caught in the air,
room still hums with whispered secrets, tangled in your midnight hair.
raindrops tap on broken windows, cadence like a restless drum,
i watch the skyline bleeding colors, bleeding all the colors ‘til it's numb.
fingers chilled from restless waiting, yet warm enough to hold the truth,
even when the days unravel, i find pieces pointing back to you.
colors spill in wild bursts, painting moments that won’t wait,
life’s not tied to perfect scripts, but mess and hope and scattered fate.
hold the chaos, breathe the brown leaves, catch the dawn before it frays,
every shade beneath the storm, lighting up the passing days.
(lighting up the passing days)
maybe flames don’t come for burning, maybe they’re just asking why,
why we keep on chasing sunsets when the stars drop from the sky.
in the cracks where light is slipping, find the truth that never lies,
in every color lost and found, life’s a puzzle in disguise.
colors spill in wild bursts, painting moments that won’t wait,
life’s not tied to perfect scripts, but mess and hope and scattered fate.
hold the chaos, breathe the brown leaves, catch the dawn before it frays,
every shade beneath the storm, lighting up the passing days.
(lighting up the passing days)
so here’s to nights that never settled, and mornings bleeding through the blue,
every hue that’s ever swung between the dark and something new.
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