(An interview done by Sound Vision, Jan, 2005)
An Ontario native, of English-Scottish descent, Dawud (formerly `David') Wharnsby Ali, left a brief career as a singer/songwriter and performer in Celtic and traditional Folk circles, after embracing Islam in 1993. Sound Vision interviewed him to probe the mind behind this Muslim artist.
SV: How do you come up with ideas for recordings?
DWA: It is hard to explain exactly what will inspire ideas for songs or poems I write. Some things that the average person might think would be inspirational, may not effect me in the least. Something very insignificant to others may effect me deeply and inspire me to write. Vary rarely do I pick a theme, or take a suggested theme, then sit down to write about it.
Usually I am effected by something that I see or experience. My lyrics often come out all at once, in a sort of `burst'.
If I do not write them down quickly or record them in some way, they are gone from my head. After I write a song, I tend to move on, seeking out a new inspiration and do not look back. For this reason, I tend to forget the lyrics I have written to many of my songs. Sometimes I re-read them or hear them and it seems that they came from somebody else, not from me.
A primary source for my inspiration comes from Quran and Hadith. This is why I tend to included Quranic Ayat on my recordings – to show the Ayat that inspired the poem.
A book which I am currently working on presents nasheeds I have written from Whisper Of Peace and Colors Of Islam, alongside the Quranic Ayat or Hadith that were the initial inspirations. This book should be out, Insha Allah, early next year.
I am also very inspired by nature and children. When I embraced Islam in 1993, I felt as though I had returned to my Fitra – the natural understanding of my purpose in life and my relationship to the Creator. I found new love in celebrating the innocence of children and the beauty of Allah's creation.
SV: What and/or who are the influences on your works (i.e. children, family)?
DWA: All praise is due to Allah Subhana Wa Ta'la who has guided us and made us among those who surrender to Him. As I have mentioned, my inspiration comes from many places: Quran, Hadith, children, nature.
Even before embracing Islam I was always influenced by my environment, my reactions to certain situations and circumstances, my family and my peers. The style in which I sing is a combination of many elements as well. I enjoy melodies from around the world and I am fascinated by
rhythms and percussion.
Some of my influence comes from my past–various styles of music and song that I once listened to. Being of Scottish/British background, much of my style is noticeably traceable to folk music from that area of the world. I do not consciously ever try to copy any one style. I write and sing in a way that feels true to myself, trying always to keep my focus on relaying a message or a mood with value.
SV: What is your favorite Dawud Wharnsby-Ali production and why?
DWA: Unfortunately I cannot answer that question. I do not have a favorite. After embracing Islam I decided to write and record again based solely upon the intention of pleasing Allah and providing education. There are some songs I have written which `say more' than others–songs in which the message is very strong and I feel very
passionate about, but I do not really have a favorite song.
“Little Bird” means a lot to me. I wrote it after a visit to Madinah in 1995. Following Salat in the Prophet's Mosque, I exited the Masjid and met an eight year old girl of Nigerian decent who had been put to work selling heavy bags of bird seed. She was abused by other older beggars
and spent her days alone in the sun working very hard. This was her life only a few yards from the grave of the Messenger Of Allah. I was repulsed to see her circumstance. I found her far more beautiful than the marble and gold architecture around me. We smiled and tried to communicate for a long time before she left to go about her work. “Little Bird” is her story and I asked my eight year old friend Zainab to sing it on “Colors Of Islam”.
Other songs that mean a lot to me are “The Veil”, “Colors Of Islam”, “Alhamdulillah (I'm A Rock)” and of course “The Prophet”, which I wrote soon after I embraced Islam.
The whole “Whisper Of Peace” recording is very personal to me as it was recorded very intimately in my own studio, without much gloss or technology. It was simple and pure just as Islam is simple and pure.
SV: Why did you decide to work for Sound Vision as opposed to striking out on your own as a performer for Muslims?
DWA: I had been a performer and musician for most of my late teens and it was not a lifestyle that suited me.
Although I liked traveling and meeting people, I was too preoccupied with my spiritual path to take music and performing as seriously as others wanted me too. I would get rushes of adrenaline and go on stage to sing, but I was very uncomfortable as a `performer'. I would get terrible stage fright and always felt like people were captured by the `performance' and not really listening to what I had to say.
When I embraced Islam I did not feel inspired to write any longer. Allah answered all my questions in the Quran. The songs that I did begin to pen were simple verses to help me learn about my new life as a Muslim and to help children and youth understand their responsibility to
the Ummah. I had no desire to be a performer and put myself on display before people simply as entertainment.
I approached Sound Vision in 1996 to seek their assistance in reaching Muslim children with my efforts of education through song. I felt that having the assistance of an established organization would ensure a wider market then producing the recordings independently.
It takes far more money and resources than most people think to market products on a large scale. This is why such emphasis is put upon purchasing original copies of recorded work, instead of illegally duplicated ones.
In our educational/Islamic niche market, we estimate that 10 illegal copies are made for each one copy we sell. Illegal duplication at this rate is hard enough on a well established organization like Sound Vision. As an
independent producer, my educational efforts could have been cut very quickly – Allahu Aliim.
SV: Why did you decide to work for Sound Vision as opposed to other Muslim organizations also aiming to provide entertainment for Muslims?
DWA: When I approached Sound Vision in 1996, I was also familiar with a handful of other Islamic media organizations. Unfortunately I noticed that many of these companies commonly resold illegally duplicated products of other Islam artists and organizations.
I wanted to ensure that I would be associated with an original group of brothers and sisters who were not involved in such activities. Other Islamic multimedia organizations which I did respect, were, however, more focused on Islam entertainment than Islamic education. Being more excited about the educational needs of Muslim children, I contacted Sound Vision. At that time I had seen some of their early catalogs and was familiar with the wide selection of books they carried. Having also been a puppeteer and children's educator for many years, I was further intrigued by the Adam's World series.
I am not against entertainment, I just felt that I wanted my intention to remain purely for education. Sound Vision's product line and overall philosophy was very compatible with my intention.
SV: What is it like working for a Muslim organization (like Sound Vision) professionally, as opposed to a non-Muslim one?
DWA: Alhamdulillah, it is wonderful to be involved with an
organization where my peers are all focused on the same goal of pleasing Allah. We pray together, we eat together and we help one another beyond just a working relationship.
Coming from a background in the arts, and seeing that many Muslims are geared more towards science, technology and business, I was not sure if I would ever find a group of brothers and sisters who would be patient with my creative, passionate, temperamental, moody nature, but Alhamdulillah, they are very patient and motivating.
We all make a humble effort to urge one another towards developing our efforts and talents, while gently and patiently correcting our shortcomings for the sake of Allah.
SV: What are your three (or more) favorite recordings by Muslim artists? Why?
DWA: I do not really listen to a great deal of material on a regular basis. Within our home, nasheeds and song are enjoyed but not really focused upon.
I do, however, love to listen to songs written by children I meet or hear songs written and sent to me by brothers and sisters who have enjoyed or learned something from my recordings. This is what truly inspires me to continue.
In “Animals Love To hear Quran” I made an attempt to urge children towards practicing their Quranic recitation on family pets. When a child tells me they have been practicing and lets me hear their progress, or an adult for that matter, I am fulfilled far more than I could be if I were to listen to other recordings.
My top three Muslim artist list would be:
1. “I Have No Cannons That Roar” – Compilation produced by Br. Yusuf Islam. This recording touched me very deeply – the words, the melodies, the strength of the lyrics, the sincerity, the hope.
The year it was released I happened to spend some time with some Bosnian children at a summer camp. This recorded effort awakened me to my own laziness during the Bosnian war and inspired me greatly. May Allah reward the Martyrs of Islam in the region of Bosnia and Kosova.
2. The nasheeds of Brother Miraj. I first met Br. Miraj while visiting Florida a few years ago. We sang together in his living room, in an improvisational outpouring of song and poetry. His original compositions and lyrics were so moving and beautiful that I, to this day, sing them to myself often. I am patiently waiting for the day when he and I will record his work so others may benefit from his true talent.This goes for several other talented individuals I have met over the years who possess great passion for Islam and express their concern for the Ummah through song and poetry.
3. The nasheeds of Malaysian group Raihan are very enjoyable. Their vigorous percussion and gentle voices are delightful.
SV: Did song and/or music/art have an influence or impact on your decision to become Muslim?
DWA: No. I wrote poetry and songs as an attempt to sort out my mind and relay my experiences searching for ultimate truth and contentment. The art was not `The End' the art was a means to `The End'.
When I discovered Quran, all of my questions were answered. I was content to put down my pen and begin reading to learn more about my responsibility as a Muslim.
Why do I write now? I see a lack of feeling in myself sometimes and also in the Ummah, where we get so caught up in `brochure Islam' that we forget how to feel the beauty of Islam and appreciate the gift Allah has given us. I do not consider my songs now as `Art' I consider them as a tool. Just a means.
SV: Do you sing to your children? If so, which songs (any of the Sound Vision productions?).
DWA: My four year old step son is far more interested in writing his own songs to sing then listening to mine. However, we do sing as a family. He likes “We've Scanned The sky” (Which he refers to as a `jumping song'). Each night it is family routine to recite from Quran, then see him off to sleep with “Muslim Lullaby” from “Road To Madinah”, which is simply the beautiful Dua before sleep, taught to us by the Messenger Of Allah (Peace and blessings be upon him).
I also enjoy singing him a limited number of folk songs from my past that pass my Islamic `enjoin the good' rule, and my son also likes to hear my renditions of nasheeds by other Islamic artists.
SV: What is your favorite color?
Living in a city now, I don't see forests as much as I used to when I was living in a small town. My favorite color is green-deep forest green. It is warmer than blue and cooler than yellow - comfortable and calming.
SV: What are your favorite places among those you have visited and why?
Easily, my visits to Makkah and Madinah were wonderful - meeting so many brothers from around the world in one place - Masha Allah, however, I also have fond memories of my walking adventures throughout Britain and Northern Scotland in my early twenties.
There is something about rain, sheep, grass and quiet that I love.I love to travel and learn about the people and places I visit-but I love to come home.
SV: What is your favorite book, Islamic or otherwise and why?
Quran is my favorite book. I do not often read fiction. Other than Quran, I read mostly reference books on subjects I am interested in-Hadith, Botany/gardening, beekeeping, poetry, world faiths, culture, science, astronomy, psychology, natural healing, I am not too fussy.
I enjoy just flipping through the encyclopedia for amusement. I love children's books as well-there is a very nice collection of Inuit Poetry for children which was given to me as a gift-recently, I enjoyed putting little tunes to the verses and singing them to my stepson.
Source: http://www.haqaonline.com/forums/lofiversion/index.php/t1539.html
Thursday, February 21, 2008
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Dawud Wharnsby-'What Did I Do Today?'
Oh the moon has come
The day is done
The night has covered up the sun.
I have stood so often before you to pray
But I wonder Allah, tell me, what did I do today?
Did I remember the words of Al-Fatiha?
Did I take time to thank you for all that I have?
Did I call on you to guide my way?
Tell me, what did I do today?
I has whispered to you
As I made ruku
Subhana Rabiy'yal adheem.
But was my faith
Bright or grey?
Oh Allah, tell me, what did I do today?
Did I smile at my brother?
Was I kind to my mother?
Did I teach another something that I know
Or did my love of this world lead me astray?
Tell me, what did I do today?
Sami Allah hu liman hamida
Rabanna lakal hamd.
Sami Allah hu liman hamida
Rabanna lakal hamd.
La illaha il Allah.
La illaha il Allah.
Though I've bowed to you
with my face in the dust,
subhana raby'yal a'la
Did I turn to you
And did I obey?
Oh Allah, tell me, what did I do today?
Did I use my mind?
Did I use my time?
If I search my heart what will I find?
The light of your guidance is a glimmering ray,
Tell me, what did I do toady?
Oh Allah, tell me, what did I do today?
The day is done
The night has covered up the sun.
I have stood so often before you to pray
But I wonder Allah, tell me, what did I do today?
Did I remember the words of Al-Fatiha?
Did I take time to thank you for all that I have?
Did I call on you to guide my way?
Tell me, what did I do today?
I has whispered to you
As I made ruku
Subhana Rabiy'yal adheem.
But was my faith
Bright or grey?
Oh Allah, tell me, what did I do today?
Did I smile at my brother?
Was I kind to my mother?
Did I teach another something that I know
Or did my love of this world lead me astray?
Tell me, what did I do today?
Sami Allah hu liman hamida
Rabanna lakal hamd.
Sami Allah hu liman hamida
Rabanna lakal hamd.
La illaha il Allah.
La illaha il Allah.
Though I've bowed to you
with my face in the dust,
subhana raby'yal a'la
Did I turn to you
And did I obey?
Oh Allah, tell me, what did I do today?
Did I use my mind?
Did I use my time?
If I search my heart what will I find?
The light of your guidance is a glimmering ray,
Tell me, what did I do toady?
Oh Allah, tell me, what did I do today?
Dawud Wharnsby-'Rhythm of Surrender'
Can you hear the rhythm of Allah’s creation?
The rhythm of the clapping of the thunder and the rain.
Can you see the rhythm of Allah’s creation?
The lightning and the leaves, and the seasons as they change.
Watch the children in the field, spinning round and round.
Watch their silly, dizzy falls upon the ground.
They grip on to long grass afraid of spinning with the sun.
Reality deceives them neath the smiling mask of fun.
Can you see the rhythm of Allah’s creation?
The rhythm of the children aging brown hair into gray.
Can you see the rhythm of Allah’s creation?
Alternation of the moon and the stars passing into day.
Watch the grown-ups all twirling with the clock throughout the day.
Watch them spinning with the hours while the clock hands tick away.
They talk and grip the world as they would catch a falling knife.
Reality deceives them neath the musing games of life.
Can you hear the rhythm of Allah’s creation?
The storm against the sand, and the pulsating waves.
Can you see the rhythm of Allah’s creation?
The rhythm of the children running wind upon the graves.
The rhythm of our world beats in surrender to Allah.
Our blood and our breathing testify.
The rhythm if surrender is a part of who we are.
With each heartbeat and involuntary blink of our eyes.
A part of us we cant deny.
Can you hear the rhythm of Allah’s creation?
The storm against the sand, and the pulsating waves.
Can you see the rhythm of Allah’s creation?
The rhythm of the children running wind upon the graves.
The rhythm of the clapping of the thunder and the rain.
Can you see the rhythm of Allah’s creation?
The lightning and the leaves, and the seasons as they change.
Watch the children in the field, spinning round and round.
Watch their silly, dizzy falls upon the ground.
They grip on to long grass afraid of spinning with the sun.
Reality deceives them neath the smiling mask of fun.
Can you see the rhythm of Allah’s creation?
The rhythm of the children aging brown hair into gray.
Can you see the rhythm of Allah’s creation?
Alternation of the moon and the stars passing into day.
Watch the grown-ups all twirling with the clock throughout the day.
Watch them spinning with the hours while the clock hands tick away.
They talk and grip the world as they would catch a falling knife.
Reality deceives them neath the musing games of life.
Can you hear the rhythm of Allah’s creation?
The storm against the sand, and the pulsating waves.
Can you see the rhythm of Allah’s creation?
The rhythm of the children running wind upon the graves.
The rhythm of our world beats in surrender to Allah.
Our blood and our breathing testify.
The rhythm if surrender is a part of who we are.
With each heartbeat and involuntary blink of our eyes.
A part of us we cant deny.
Can you hear the rhythm of Allah’s creation?
The storm against the sand, and the pulsating waves.
Can you see the rhythm of Allah’s creation?
The rhythm of the children running wind upon the graves.
Dawud Wharnsby-'Wisdom and Tea'
I’m looking back, throughout the years,
To breathe as hard, and my eyes are filled with tears.
Your face and hair are full of light, now it will soon be time to go.
I feel you feeling calm now, did the angel let you know?
CHORUS:
For all the wisdom and tea you gave to me,
Let me offer something now so warm and comforting and sweet,
Can you hear me whisper to you as you sleep,
“La Ilaha Ill Allah.”
Did you always understand?
Can you feel me take your hand?
Flowers, houseplants and I, you helped us grow
Now as I hold your cup, how were you and I to know?
I care for you and look for hints of Paradise, as I bend to wash your feet.
Our minutes fade like photographs of crowds from an evening street.
CHORUS
I dreamt we sat in the kitchen , like we used to drinking tea.
The apparition vanished, as in life’s reality.
“We will meet again,” is what I’m sure I felt her say.
On the day when veils and secrets of the heart will be torn away.
For all the wisdom and tea you gave to me,
Let me offer something now so warm and comforting and sweet,
Can you hear me whisper to you as you sleep,
“La Ilaha Ill Allah.”
Did you always understand, as I let go of your hand.
For all the wisdom and tea you gave to me,
Let me turn to something now so warm and meaningful and sweet.
Allah give us peace in our final sleep.
“La Ilaha Ill Allah.”
Give us patience to understand,
“Ya Ghafoor , Ya Rahman.”
What is finally in the heart, what is the final choice?
Allah knows, and all that we can claim, are just memories and our voice.
To breathe as hard, and my eyes are filled with tears.
Your face and hair are full of light, now it will soon be time to go.
I feel you feeling calm now, did the angel let you know?
CHORUS:
For all the wisdom and tea you gave to me,
Let me offer something now so warm and comforting and sweet,
Can you hear me whisper to you as you sleep,
“La Ilaha Ill Allah.”
Did you always understand?
Can you feel me take your hand?
Flowers, houseplants and I, you helped us grow
Now as I hold your cup, how were you and I to know?
I care for you and look for hints of Paradise, as I bend to wash your feet.
Our minutes fade like photographs of crowds from an evening street.
CHORUS
I dreamt we sat in the kitchen , like we used to drinking tea.
The apparition vanished, as in life’s reality.
“We will meet again,” is what I’m sure I felt her say.
On the day when veils and secrets of the heart will be torn away.
For all the wisdom and tea you gave to me,
Let me offer something now so warm and comforting and sweet,
Can you hear me whisper to you as you sleep,
“La Ilaha Ill Allah.”
Did you always understand, as I let go of your hand.
For all the wisdom and tea you gave to me,
Let me turn to something now so warm and meaningful and sweet.
Allah give us peace in our final sleep.
“La Ilaha Ill Allah.”
Give us patience to understand,
“Ya Ghafoor , Ya Rahman.”
What is finally in the heart, what is the final choice?
Allah knows, and all that we can claim, are just memories and our voice.
Dawud Wharnsby-'Why Are The Drums So Silent?
All the sounds that surround us,
All the noises that dumb-found us,
The clatter and the clammer of the clutter of our lives.
Cars and streets, make silence shatter,
Idle minds fill up with idle chatter,
If we fill our void, that’s all that matters.
CHORUS
Why are the drums so silent?
Why can’t we hear the rhythm?
What’s wrong with you and I?
Why are the drums so silent?
Why can’t we hear the rhythm from the heels of believers
Marching to the garden as they strive.
We digitise the revelation,
Does our rehearsed recitation,
Go any deeper than our throats?
Our calls to prayer seem to raise up to the sky.
Conferences, and lectures, seminars for you and I.
The words that blow away with the nasheed that make us cry, yet.
Why are the drums so silent?
Why can’t we hear the rhythm?
What’s wrong with you and I?
Why are the drums so silent?
Why can’t we hear the rhythm from the heels of believers
Marching to the garden as they strive.
And if we can just be brave enough to be each other’s mirror.
We might finally recognise the face of conscience that we fear.
And if we can finally take the time to face the mute the noise
We’ve built around ourselves.
The rhythm of the heartbeat and the purpose may be clear.
If we beat the drums,
A whisper of peace,
Beat the drums,
Moving through the land,
BEAT THE DRUMS,
OOOoooOOOOoooooOOoO
If we beat the drums of hope and faith,
We will all fall into rhythm,
I have faith in you and I,
I we beat the drums of hope and faith,
Then we will hear the rhythm from our footsteps and our striving marching to the garden as we try.
If we beat the drums of hope and faith,
We will all fall into rhythm,
I have faith in you and I,
I we beat the drums of hope and faith,
Then we will feel the rhythm from our footsteps and our striving marching to the garden as we die.
All the noises that dumb-found us,
The clatter and the clammer of the clutter of our lives.
Cars and streets, make silence shatter,
Idle minds fill up with idle chatter,
If we fill our void, that’s all that matters.
CHORUS
Why are the drums so silent?
Why can’t we hear the rhythm?
What’s wrong with you and I?
Why are the drums so silent?
Why can’t we hear the rhythm from the heels of believers
Marching to the garden as they strive.
We digitise the revelation,
Does our rehearsed recitation,
Go any deeper than our throats?
Our calls to prayer seem to raise up to the sky.
Conferences, and lectures, seminars for you and I.
The words that blow away with the nasheed that make us cry, yet.
Why are the drums so silent?
Why can’t we hear the rhythm?
What’s wrong with you and I?
Why are the drums so silent?
Why can’t we hear the rhythm from the heels of believers
Marching to the garden as they strive.
And if we can just be brave enough to be each other’s mirror.
We might finally recognise the face of conscience that we fear.
And if we can finally take the time to face the mute the noise
We’ve built around ourselves.
The rhythm of the heartbeat and the purpose may be clear.
If we beat the drums,
A whisper of peace,
Beat the drums,
Moving through the land,
BEAT THE DRUMS,
OOOoooOOOOoooooOOoO
If we beat the drums of hope and faith,
We will all fall into rhythm,
I have faith in you and I,
I we beat the drums of hope and faith,
Then we will hear the rhythm from our footsteps and our striving marching to the garden as we try.
If we beat the drums of hope and faith,
We will all fall into rhythm,
I have faith in you and I,
I we beat the drums of hope and faith,
Then we will feel the rhythm from our footsteps and our striving marching to the garden as we die.
Dawud Wharnsby-'Bismillah'
In the morning when we wake: Bismillah, Bismillah
With every step we take: Bismillah, Bismillah
With every word we say: Bismillah, Bismillah
And every game we play: Bismillah, Bismillah
Bismillah hir Rahman nir Rahim, Alhamdulillah hi Rabbil Alameen
Bismillah hir Rahman nir Rahim, Alhamdulillah hi Rabbil Alameen
With everything we do: Bismillah, Bismillah
And everything that’s new: Bismillah, Bismillah
With every place we go: Bismillah, Bismillah
And every friend we know: Bismillah, Bismillah
Bismillah hir Rahman nir Rahim, Alhamdulillah hi Rabbil Alameen
Bismillah hir Rahman nir Rahim, Alhamdulillah hi Rabbil Alameen
With every song we sing: Bismillah, Bismillah
On every mountain peace will ring: Bismillah, Bismillah
Bismillah hir Rahman nir Rahim, Alhamdulillah hi Rabbil Alameen
Bismillah hir Rahman nir Rahim, Alhamdulillah hi Rabbil Alameen
With every step we take: Bismillah, Bismillah
With every word we say: Bismillah, Bismillah
And every game we play: Bismillah, Bismillah
Bismillah hir Rahman nir Rahim, Alhamdulillah hi Rabbil Alameen
Bismillah hir Rahman nir Rahim, Alhamdulillah hi Rabbil Alameen
With everything we do: Bismillah, Bismillah
And everything that’s new: Bismillah, Bismillah
With every place we go: Bismillah, Bismillah
And every friend we know: Bismillah, Bismillah
Bismillah hir Rahman nir Rahim, Alhamdulillah hi Rabbil Alameen
Bismillah hir Rahman nir Rahim, Alhamdulillah hi Rabbil Alameen
With every song we sing: Bismillah, Bismillah
On every mountain peace will ring: Bismillah, Bismillah
Bismillah hir Rahman nir Rahim, Alhamdulillah hi Rabbil Alameen
Bismillah hir Rahman nir Rahim, Alhamdulillah hi Rabbil Alameen
Dawud Wharnsby-'Animals Love Qur'an'
There was a chipmunk climbing up a tree.
I stopped to look at him and he stopped to look at me.
When I said hello he didn’t understand and he went to runaway.
I recited some Quran and he decided to say.
Animals love to hear Quran, try it out someday.
They’ll stop and listen carefully to every word you say.
Allah created animals, Allah created man.
And he sent a book to guide us all, even animals love Quran.
Sitting at my window to ponder at the sky,
I saw a little bird as it flew by.
I recited some Quran, and it wasn’t very long,
Till the bird sat near my window and decided to sing along.
Animals love to hear Quran, try it out someday.
They’ll stop and listen carefully to every word you say.
Allah made the chipmunks and the birds, Allah created man.
And he sent a book to guide us all, even animals love Quran.
Playing in the yard on a warm sunny day,
A shy little kitten watched me play.
I bent down to pat him on the head but I think he was scared of me.
I recited some Quran; she smiled and brushed against my knee.
Animals love to hear Quran, try it out someday.
They’ll stop and listen carefully to every word you say.
Allah created animals, Allah created man.
And he sent a book to guide us all, even animals love Quran.
Animals love to hear Quran, try it out someday.
They’ll stop and listen carefully to every word you say.
Allah created animals, Allah is Ar-Rahman.
Cause he sent a book to guide us all, even animals love Quran.
Allah made horses and dogs and bats and camels and gnats and pigs and coes and spiders and chickens and elephants and crocodiles and dolphins and beavers and sheep; lions and zebras and whales and emus...
But he sent a book to guide us all even animals love Quran
I stopped to look at him and he stopped to look at me.
When I said hello he didn’t understand and he went to runaway.
I recited some Quran and he decided to say.
Animals love to hear Quran, try it out someday.
They’ll stop and listen carefully to every word you say.
Allah created animals, Allah created man.
And he sent a book to guide us all, even animals love Quran.
Sitting at my window to ponder at the sky,
I saw a little bird as it flew by.
I recited some Quran, and it wasn’t very long,
Till the bird sat near my window and decided to sing along.
Animals love to hear Quran, try it out someday.
They’ll stop and listen carefully to every word you say.
Allah made the chipmunks and the birds, Allah created man.
And he sent a book to guide us all, even animals love Quran.
Playing in the yard on a warm sunny day,
A shy little kitten watched me play.
I bent down to pat him on the head but I think he was scared of me.
I recited some Quran; she smiled and brushed against my knee.
Animals love to hear Quran, try it out someday.
They’ll stop and listen carefully to every word you say.
Allah created animals, Allah created man.
And he sent a book to guide us all, even animals love Quran.
Animals love to hear Quran, try it out someday.
They’ll stop and listen carefully to every word you say.
Allah created animals, Allah is Ar-Rahman.
Cause he sent a book to guide us all, even animals love Quran.
Allah made horses and dogs and bats and camels and gnats and pigs and coes and spiders and chickens and elephants and crocodiles and dolphins and beavers and sheep; lions and zebras and whales and emus...
But he sent a book to guide us all even animals love Quran
Dawud Wharnsby-'Here We Come'
CHORUS:
Here we come Allah, here we come,
Here we come, no partners do you have.
All praises to you, the universe is yours.
Here we come Allah, here we come.
The world is a very, very big house.
Many people, living in many rooms.
We must open all the doors up.
We must, unlock them all today.
Throw all the keys away.
CHORUS
Oceans and mountains divide us.
But the same fire burns inside us.
We must through the world behind us.
With Allah is where you’ll find us here.
Here we come, oh here.
Here, here, here, here
Here we come Allah, here we come,
Here we come, no partners do you have.
All praises to you, the universe is yours.
Here we come Allah, here we come.
The world is a very, very big house.
Many people, living in many rooms.
We must open all the doors up.
We must, unlock them all today.
Throw all the keys away.
CHORUS
Oceans and mountains divide us.
But the same fire burns inside us.
We must through the world behind us.
With Allah is where you’ll find us here.
Here we come, oh here.
Here, here, here, here
Dawud Wharnsby-‘Al-Khaliq’ (the Creator)
CHORUS:
La ilaha illallah (4)
Muhammadur Rasulullah (3)
Salallahu Alayhi Wasallam
Al-Khaliq made the oceans, rivers, lakes, streams and rain
bow their waves in pure submission, upon the earth to praise His name.
CHORUS
There is no creature among us,
In the air or in the sea,
That does not sing with wonder,
Praising in community.
CHORUS
The dry earth is a sign,
For all of mankind,
Brought to life with peaceful rain,
And to us Allah will do the same.
CHORUS
La ilaha illallah (4)
Muhammadur Rasulullah (3)
Salallahu Alayhi Wasallam
Salallahu Alayhi Wasallam
Salallahu Alayhi Wasallam
La ilaha illallah (4)
Muhammadur Rasulullah (3)
Salallahu Alayhi Wasallam
Al-Khaliq made the oceans, rivers, lakes, streams and rain
bow their waves in pure submission, upon the earth to praise His name.
CHORUS
There is no creature among us,
In the air or in the sea,
That does not sing with wonder,
Praising in community.
CHORUS
The dry earth is a sign,
For all of mankind,
Brought to life with peaceful rain,
And to us Allah will do the same.
CHORUS
La ilaha illallah (4)
Muhammadur Rasulullah (3)
Salallahu Alayhi Wasallam
Salallahu Alayhi Wasallam
Salallahu Alayhi Wasallam
Dawud Wharnsby-'The Days of Eid'
These are the days of Eid,
Make Takbir wherever you are.
These are the days,
Allahu Akbar.
These are the days of Eid,
Sing together everyone.
La Ilaha Ill Allah Wa Lillah Hil Hamd.
Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar.
La Ilaha Ill Allahu Wallahu Akbar.
Allahu Akbar Wa lillah Hil Hamd.
Allah is Great, Allah is Great.
There is no God but Allah.
Allah is Great, Allah is Great,
And all praise to him.
Allah is Great, Allah is Great.
There is no God but Allah.
Allah is Great, Allah is Great,
And all praise belongs to Allah.
These are the days of Eid,
Make Takbir wherever you are.
These are the days,
Allahu Akbar.
Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar.
La Ilaha Ill Allahu Wallahu Akbar.
Allahu Akbar Wa lillah Hil Hamd.
Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar.
La Ilaha Ill Allahu Wallahu Akbar.
Allahu Akbar Wa lillah Hil Hamd.
Make Takbir wherever you are.
These are the days,
Allahu Akbar.
These are the days of Eid,
Sing together everyone.
La Ilaha Ill Allah Wa Lillah Hil Hamd.
Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar.
La Ilaha Ill Allahu Wallahu Akbar.
Allahu Akbar Wa lillah Hil Hamd.
Allah is Great, Allah is Great.
There is no God but Allah.
Allah is Great, Allah is Great,
And all praise to him.
Allah is Great, Allah is Great.
There is no God but Allah.
Allah is Great, Allah is Great,
And all praise belongs to Allah.
These are the days of Eid,
Make Takbir wherever you are.
These are the days,
Allahu Akbar.
Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar.
La Ilaha Ill Allahu Wallahu Akbar.
Allahu Akbar Wa lillah Hil Hamd.
Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar.
La Ilaha Ill Allahu Wallahu Akbar.
Allahu Akbar Wa lillah Hil Hamd.
Dawud Wharnsby-'A Whisper of Peace'
A whisper of peace,
Moving through the land.
Allah will surely run to us if we hold out our hands.
A word of hope will call to every woman and man.
A light until the end of time,
This is our Islam.
A whisper of peace,
Moving through the land.
Allah will surely run to us if we hold out our hands.
A word of hope will call to every woman and man.
A light until the end of time,
This is our Islam.
A whisper of peace,
Moving through the land.
Allah will surely run to us but do we understand?
A word of hope will call to every woman and man.
A light until the end of time,
This is our Islam.
A whisper of peace,
Moving through the land.
Allah will surely run to us if we hold out our hands.
A word of hope will call to every woman and man.
A light until the end of time,
Or is this just a waste of rhyme?
Are we running out of time?
Is this our Islam?
Moving through the land.
Allah will surely run to us if we hold out our hands.
A word of hope will call to every woman and man.
A light until the end of time,
This is our Islam.
A whisper of peace,
Moving through the land.
Allah will surely run to us if we hold out our hands.
A word of hope will call to every woman and man.
A light until the end of time,
This is our Islam.
A whisper of peace,
Moving through the land.
Allah will surely run to us but do we understand?
A word of hope will call to every woman and man.
A light until the end of time,
This is our Islam.
A whisper of peace,
Moving through the land.
Allah will surely run to us if we hold out our hands.
A word of hope will call to every woman and man.
A light until the end of time,
Or is this just a waste of rhyme?
Are we running out of time?
Is this our Islam?
Dawud Wharnsby-'About Muhammad'
It would be such a pleasure to have you come along with me,
I accept your gracious offer of kindness and company.
But as we walk along young man and as you help me with my load,
I’ve only one request as we travel down this road,
Don’t talk to me about Muhammad.
Because of him there is no peace and I have trouble in my mind,
so don’t talk to me about Muhammad
and as we walk along together we will get along just fine,
and as we walk along together we will get along.
That man upsets me so, and so much more than you could know,
I hear of his name and reputation everywhere I go.
Though his family and his clan once knew him as an honest man,
he’s dividing everyone with his claim that “God is One”
So don’t talk to me about Muhammad.
Because of him there is no peace and I have trouble in my mind,
so don’t talk to me about Muhammad
and as we walk along together we will get along just fine,
and as we walk along together we will get along.
He’s misled all the weak ones and the poor ones and the slaves,
They think they’ve all found wealth and freedom following his ways.
He’s corrupted all the youth with his twisted brand of truth
convinced them they all are strong, given them somewhere to belong.
So don’t talk to me about Muhammad.
Because of him there is no peace and I have trouble in my mind,
so don’t talk to me about Muhammad
and as we walk along together we will get along just fine,
and as we walk along together we will get along.
Thank you now young man, you’ve really been so kind
Your generosity and smile are very rare to find.
Let me give you some advice, since you’ve been so very nice,
From Muhammad stay away, don’t heed his words or emulate his way.
And don’t talk about Muhammad,
or you will never have true peace and trouble is all you will find.
So don’t talk about Muhammad
and as you travel down life’s road you will get along just fine.
Now before we part and go, if it’s alright just the same,
may I ask, my dear young man, who you are? What is your name?
Forgive me - what was that? Your words weren’t very clear,
my ears are getting old - sometimes its difficult to hear.
It is truly rather funny, though I’m sure I must be wrong,
but I thought I heard you said that your name is Muhammad......
Muhammad?
Ash haduallah ilaha il Allah wa Ash hadu ana Muhammad ur-Rasulullah.
Oh talk to me Muhammad!
Upon you I pray for peace for you have eased my troubled mind!
Oh talk to me Muhammad
and as we walk along together we will get along just fine,
and as I travel down life’s road I will get along just fine.
I accept your gracious offer of kindness and company.
But as we walk along young man and as you help me with my load,
I’ve only one request as we travel down this road,
Don’t talk to me about Muhammad.
Because of him there is no peace and I have trouble in my mind,
so don’t talk to me about Muhammad
and as we walk along together we will get along just fine,
and as we walk along together we will get along.
That man upsets me so, and so much more than you could know,
I hear of his name and reputation everywhere I go.
Though his family and his clan once knew him as an honest man,
he’s dividing everyone with his claim that “God is One”
So don’t talk to me about Muhammad.
Because of him there is no peace and I have trouble in my mind,
so don’t talk to me about Muhammad
and as we walk along together we will get along just fine,
and as we walk along together we will get along.
He’s misled all the weak ones and the poor ones and the slaves,
They think they’ve all found wealth and freedom following his ways.
He’s corrupted all the youth with his twisted brand of truth
convinced them they all are strong, given them somewhere to belong.
So don’t talk to me about Muhammad.
Because of him there is no peace and I have trouble in my mind,
so don’t talk to me about Muhammad
and as we walk along together we will get along just fine,
and as we walk along together we will get along.
Thank you now young man, you’ve really been so kind
Your generosity and smile are very rare to find.
Let me give you some advice, since you’ve been so very nice,
From Muhammad stay away, don’t heed his words or emulate his way.
And don’t talk about Muhammad,
or you will never have true peace and trouble is all you will find.
So don’t talk about Muhammad
and as you travel down life’s road you will get along just fine.
Now before we part and go, if it’s alright just the same,
may I ask, my dear young man, who you are? What is your name?
Forgive me - what was that? Your words weren’t very clear,
my ears are getting old - sometimes its difficult to hear.
It is truly rather funny, though I’m sure I must be wrong,
but I thought I heard you said that your name is Muhammad......
Muhammad?
Ash haduallah ilaha il Allah wa Ash hadu ana Muhammad ur-Rasulullah.
Oh talk to me Muhammad!
Upon you I pray for peace for you have eased my troubled mind!
Oh talk to me Muhammad
and as we walk along together we will get along just fine,
and as I travel down life’s road I will get along just fine.
Dawud Wharnsby-'The Beautiful Story Of Yusuf'
We sipped our tea as he sat next to me, cross legged on the floor
and he spoke of his youth thrown to the wolves
a student of the hardship of war.
A war which shaped him and molded him to a grateful and God fearing man;
the struggle of a nation burned in his eyes as he re-lived his war-torn homeland.
Accused and abuse he was stolen away,
no justice exists with no law
Like the Prophet Yusuf he was thrown into prison
but they couldn’t cage his faith in Allah.
The beautiful story of Yusuf has so much to fill our lives.
A lesson in forgiveness and brotherhood we cannot compromise.
The power of patience and the fire of hope, must burn in the hearts of the wise.
The beautiful story of Yusuf has so much to fill our lives.
It seemed like endless days and morningless nights, his family so blind with concern,
while he held tight to his hope and his faith in Allah
for the day they would see his return.
The guards laughing in the black of the night as they kicked him and beat him raw,
and the blood and the dirt and the grime of the world and the dark side of man that he saw.
And in the minutes and months and years that dripped by, greying away his youth,
he spent his hours in quiet worship and in silent struggle for the truth.
The beautiful story of Yusuf has so much to fill our lives.
A lesson in forgiveness and brotherhood we cannot compromise.
The power of patience and the fire of hope, must burn in the hearts of the wise.
The beautiful story of Yusuf has so much to fill our lives.
He wiped tears from his cheek with the smile on his face,
brushed the hair back from his daughter’s eyes
and as she finished her lesson and closed her Qur’an, it was clear then to recognize,
Allah only tests those who are loved.
His little girl climbed up onto his knees.
The words of Allah are clear to the world, “With hardship will always come ease.”
The beautiful story of Yusuf has so much to fill our lives.
A lesson in forgiveness and brotherhood we cannot compromise.
The power of patience and the fire of hope, must burn in the hearts of the wise.
The beautiful story of Yusuf has so much to fill our lives.
and he spoke of his youth thrown to the wolves
a student of the hardship of war.
A war which shaped him and molded him to a grateful and God fearing man;
the struggle of a nation burned in his eyes as he re-lived his war-torn homeland.
Accused and abuse he was stolen away,
no justice exists with no law
Like the Prophet Yusuf he was thrown into prison
but they couldn’t cage his faith in Allah.
The beautiful story of Yusuf has so much to fill our lives.
A lesson in forgiveness and brotherhood we cannot compromise.
The power of patience and the fire of hope, must burn in the hearts of the wise.
The beautiful story of Yusuf has so much to fill our lives.
It seemed like endless days and morningless nights, his family so blind with concern,
while he held tight to his hope and his faith in Allah
for the day they would see his return.
The guards laughing in the black of the night as they kicked him and beat him raw,
and the blood and the dirt and the grime of the world and the dark side of man that he saw.
And in the minutes and months and years that dripped by, greying away his youth,
he spent his hours in quiet worship and in silent struggle for the truth.
The beautiful story of Yusuf has so much to fill our lives.
A lesson in forgiveness and brotherhood we cannot compromise.
The power of patience and the fire of hope, must burn in the hearts of the wise.
The beautiful story of Yusuf has so much to fill our lives.
He wiped tears from his cheek with the smile on his face,
brushed the hair back from his daughter’s eyes
and as she finished her lesson and closed her Qur’an, it was clear then to recognize,
Allah only tests those who are loved.
His little girl climbed up onto his knees.
The words of Allah are clear to the world, “With hardship will always come ease.”
The beautiful story of Yusuf has so much to fill our lives.
A lesson in forgiveness and brotherhood we cannot compromise.
The power of patience and the fire of hope, must burn in the hearts of the wise.
The beautiful story of Yusuf has so much to fill our lives.
Dawud Wharnsby-'The Story Of Ibrahim'
Father, O Father, why do you do it?
Why do you whittle all day?
Why do you carve those statues of wood
And fashion those idols out of clay?
Father, O Father, why do you do it?
Why do you bow down and pray?
To all those empty gods you’ve made
When there’s such a far better way?
There is only one god
La ilaha illallah
Lord of both the earth and sky
Who knows all the answers to where, what and why.
There is only one god,
La ilaha illallah.
I've looked to the sky, seen the moon and stars
Come then quickly fade away.
I’ve seen the sun so strong and bright,
Die at the end of the day.
I’ve seen the perfection of all creation,
in every creature and leaf,
And I don’t understand any woman or man,
Who denies the one true belief.
There is only one god
La ilaha illallah
who will not fade and who will not die
who knows all the answers to where, what and why
There is only one god
La ilaha illallah
People, O people, why won’t you heed
My call to the Straight Way?
Your hearts are as hard as the idols you carve.
You listen but won’t hear a word that I say.
People, O people, why put your faith
In gods of gold and wood?
They crumble away, they have no life.
They cause no harm and they do no good.
There is only one god
La ilaha illallah
I don’t understand why you choose to deny
that Allah knows all the answers to where, what and why.
There is only one god
La ilaha illallah
People, O people, you’ve tried to break me
You’ve called me a fool and a liar.
But I will not burn in your flames
For faith in Allah will cool any fire.
So hate me or hurt me, do what you will
Even banish me from this land,
I will pray to Allah that the truth comes to you
And I pray that some day you will all understand
There is only one god
La ilaha illallah
Lord of both the earth and sky
Who will not fade and who will not die
There is only one god
La ilaha illallah
No, I don’t understand why you choose to deny
that Allah knows all the answers to where, what and why
There is only one god
La ilaha illallah
Why do you whittle all day?
Why do you carve those statues of wood
And fashion those idols out of clay?
Father, O Father, why do you do it?
Why do you bow down and pray?
To all those empty gods you’ve made
When there’s such a far better way?
There is only one god
La ilaha illallah
Lord of both the earth and sky
Who knows all the answers to where, what and why.
There is only one god,
La ilaha illallah.
I've looked to the sky, seen the moon and stars
Come then quickly fade away.
I’ve seen the sun so strong and bright,
Die at the end of the day.
I’ve seen the perfection of all creation,
in every creature and leaf,
And I don’t understand any woman or man,
Who denies the one true belief.
There is only one god
La ilaha illallah
who will not fade and who will not die
who knows all the answers to where, what and why
There is only one god
La ilaha illallah
People, O people, why won’t you heed
My call to the Straight Way?
Your hearts are as hard as the idols you carve.
You listen but won’t hear a word that I say.
People, O people, why put your faith
In gods of gold and wood?
They crumble away, they have no life.
They cause no harm and they do no good.
There is only one god
La ilaha illallah
I don’t understand why you choose to deny
that Allah knows all the answers to where, what and why.
There is only one god
La ilaha illallah
People, O people, you’ve tried to break me
You’ve called me a fool and a liar.
But I will not burn in your flames
For faith in Allah will cool any fire.
So hate me or hurt me, do what you will
Even banish me from this land,
I will pray to Allah that the truth comes to you
And I pray that some day you will all understand
There is only one god
La ilaha illallah
Lord of both the earth and sky
Who will not fade and who will not die
There is only one god
La ilaha illallah
No, I don’t understand why you choose to deny
that Allah knows all the answers to where, what and why
There is only one god
La ilaha illallah
Dawud Wharnsby-'The Things We Want To Say'
There're only 28 letters that we really need
and we mix them and we match them, making words so carefully.
The words we put together, help us make our way
with the things we want to say, every single day.
Alif, “Allah”, one god to whom I pray
Ba, “Bismillah”, In God’s name each step of the way
Ta, “Tilawa”, words of Qur’an I will say
To gain Tha, “Thawab” reward only Allah can pay.
Jeem , “Jama`ah” shoulder to shoulder toe to toe
Ha, “Halal & Haram” good and bad things we must know.
Kha, “Khutbah” I listen quietly in the row,
and make dal, “dua” calling upon Allah alone.
There're only 28 letters that we really need
and we mix them and we match them, making words so carefully.
The words we put together, help us make our way
with the things we want to say, every single day.
Dhal, “dhikr” think of Allah everywhere
And ra, “ruku’” bow to God in prayer
za, “zakat” we give and learn to share
and seen, for “sajdah” to show Allah we care.
Sheen, “shukr”, thanking God is only right
God gave us sawd, for “salat” prayers we make day and night.
God gave us daad, “duha” the Guiding Morning Light
And Ta, “tawaf” around the Ka’ba, such a stunning sight.
The sun so bright above, Dha, “dhuhr” prayer is near.
Ain, Joy and celebration “Eid” comes twice a year.
Ghain, “ghusl” wash our hearts and bodies pure.
And Fa, “Al-feel” a splendid story you should hear.
There're only 28 letters that we really need
and we mix them and we match them, making words so carefully.
The words we put together, help us make our way
with the things we want to say, every single day.
Qaf, “Quran”, holy words from Allah’s grace,
Kaf, “kabah”, the holy mosque that we all face,
laam, “labbayk” to answer Allah’s call we’ll race.
meem, is for “masjid” the whole world’s a worship place!
Nun, “noor” is light in our souls from Al-Rahman,
Ha, “hilal”, the smiling moon which welcomes Ramadan
Wow, “wahid”, is One. One God for woman and for man.
And Ya, is for “yasin” the very heart of God's Qur’an.
There're only 28 letters that we really need
and we mix them and we match them, making words so carefully.
The words we put together, help us make our way
with the things we want to say, every single day.
and we mix them and we match them, making words so carefully.
The words we put together, help us make our way
with the things we want to say, every single day.
Alif, “Allah”, one god to whom I pray
Ba, “Bismillah”, In God’s name each step of the way
Ta, “Tilawa”, words of Qur’an I will say
To gain Tha, “Thawab” reward only Allah can pay.
Jeem , “Jama`ah” shoulder to shoulder toe to toe
Ha, “Halal & Haram” good and bad things we must know.
Kha, “Khutbah” I listen quietly in the row,
and make dal, “dua” calling upon Allah alone.
There're only 28 letters that we really need
and we mix them and we match them, making words so carefully.
The words we put together, help us make our way
with the things we want to say, every single day.
Dhal, “dhikr” think of Allah everywhere
And ra, “ruku’” bow to God in prayer
za, “zakat” we give and learn to share
and seen, for “sajdah” to show Allah we care.
Sheen, “shukr”, thanking God is only right
God gave us sawd, for “salat” prayers we make day and night.
God gave us daad, “duha” the Guiding Morning Light
And Ta, “tawaf” around the Ka’ba, such a stunning sight.
The sun so bright above, Dha, “dhuhr” prayer is near.
Ain, Joy and celebration “Eid” comes twice a year.
Ghain, “ghusl” wash our hearts and bodies pure.
And Fa, “Al-feel” a splendid story you should hear.
There're only 28 letters that we really need
and we mix them and we match them, making words so carefully.
The words we put together, help us make our way
with the things we want to say, every single day.
Qaf, “Quran”, holy words from Allah’s grace,
Kaf, “kabah”, the holy mosque that we all face,
laam, “labbayk” to answer Allah’s call we’ll race.
meem, is for “masjid” the whole world’s a worship place!
Nun, “noor” is light in our souls from Al-Rahman,
Ha, “hilal”, the smiling moon which welcomes Ramadan
Wow, “wahid”, is One. One God for woman and for man.
And Ya, is for “yasin” the very heart of God's Qur’an.
There're only 28 letters that we really need
and we mix them and we match them, making words so carefully.
The words we put together, help us make our way
with the things we want to say, every single day.
Dawud Wharnsby-'Beauty And Color'
Poems and paper napkin flowers,
I could sit and listen to you for hours
as I simply sip my tea ~ so sweet and brown,
you facinate me.
4:45, I watch the sun rise over my steering wheel.
Review mirror reflects the light in my eyes.
I can’t explain this night or how I feel.
Let God take your hand and please give me the other
I will show you a world I would trust with no other.
There is so much spontinaity I need to free,
and so much beauty and colour in you, I hope will influence me.
You watch me in a crowd,
and you worry I’m a whisper among all that is loud.
Then there is you ~ a song, full of wonder and life,
and it is clear to see I want you as my wife.
Let God take your hand and please give me the other,
I will be your father if you’ll be my mother.
There’s so much simplicity I want you to see,
and so much beauty and colour in you, I hope will influence me.
I could sit and listen to you for hours
as I simply sip my tea ~ so sweet and brown,
you facinate me.
4:45, I watch the sun rise over my steering wheel.
Review mirror reflects the light in my eyes.
I can’t explain this night or how I feel.
Let God take your hand and please give me the other
I will show you a world I would trust with no other.
There is so much spontinaity I need to free,
and so much beauty and colour in you, I hope will influence me.
You watch me in a crowd,
and you worry I’m a whisper among all that is loud.
Then there is you ~ a song, full of wonder and life,
and it is clear to see I want you as my wife.
Let God take your hand and please give me the other,
I will be your father if you’ll be my mother.
There’s so much simplicity I want you to see,
and so much beauty and colour in you, I hope will influence me.
Dawud Wharnsby-'Colours Of Islam'
Allah made us all a different shade and colour.
Nations and tribes recognize one another!
’cause every single person is your sister or brother.
So many different colours of Islam.
Fill the world with colour, paint it everywhere you go.
Paint everything you see, and tell everyone you know.
Qur’an will be your paint, and your brush will be iman,
So fill the world with colour, every colour of Islam.
Truth as clear and blue as the sky we walk under.
Love as bright and loud as the lightening and thunder.
Peace as pure and white as the moon, so full of wonder.
So many different colours of Islam!
Fill the world with colour, paint it everywhere you go.
Paint everything you see, and tell everyone you know.
Qur’an will be your paint, and your brush will be iman,
So fill the world with colour, every colour of Islam.
Smiles, warm and shining, like the sun upon our faces.
Hope as rich and green as the trees of an oasis.
The colours of our faith bloom in so many places.
So many different colours of Islam
Fill the world with colour, paint it everywhere you go.
Paint everything you see, and tell everyone you know.
Qur’an will be your paint, and your brush will be iman,
So fill the world with colour, every colour of Islam.
Nations and tribes recognize one another!
’cause every single person is your sister or brother.
So many different colours of Islam.
Fill the world with colour, paint it everywhere you go.
Paint everything you see, and tell everyone you know.
Qur’an will be your paint, and your brush will be iman,
So fill the world with colour, every colour of Islam.
Truth as clear and blue as the sky we walk under.
Love as bright and loud as the lightening and thunder.
Peace as pure and white as the moon, so full of wonder.
So many different colours of Islam!
Fill the world with colour, paint it everywhere you go.
Paint everything you see, and tell everyone you know.
Qur’an will be your paint, and your brush will be iman,
So fill the world with colour, every colour of Islam.
Smiles, warm and shining, like the sun upon our faces.
Hope as rich and green as the trees of an oasis.
The colours of our faith bloom in so many places.
So many different colours of Islam
Fill the world with colour, paint it everywhere you go.
Paint everything you see, and tell everyone you know.
Qur’an will be your paint, and your brush will be iman,
So fill the world with colour, every colour of Islam.
Dawud Wharnsby-'The Everything Song..'
I'm gonna take my bicycle and ride out to a field
and play under the sky with the mosquitoes and the birds.
We can play together, you can come with me.
Have you ever had a picnic sitting high up in a tree?
Every single blade of grass
And every day and month that pass
and every colored leaf that decorates the fall.
Every flake of snow is different,
every place you go is different,
everyone you know is different,
that's the beauty of it all.
There are a million picture puzzle pieces in the passing clouds
we can contemplate and dream upon the beauty of the signs.
I like to lay down with my head upon the grass,
laughing with the moon and winking back at stars that pass.
Every single star you see
and every rock within the sea
and every drop of rain that you've ever felt fall.
Every flake of snow is different,
every place you go is different,
everyone you know is different,
that's the beauty of it all.
Every print on every finger of each human on the earth
is different from each other finger print since the start of time.
Nadia speaks with her hands not a sound comes from her lips,
Abdullah doesn't use his eyes, reads with his finger tips.
Every face and you and me,
and every stripe on every bee,
every creature that you see swim, fly run or crawl,
every flake of snow is different,
every place you go is different, everyone you know is different
that's the beauty of it all.
and play under the sky with the mosquitoes and the birds.
We can play together, you can come with me.
Have you ever had a picnic sitting high up in a tree?
Every single blade of grass
And every day and month that pass
and every colored leaf that decorates the fall.
Every flake of snow is different,
every place you go is different,
everyone you know is different,
that's the beauty of it all.
There are a million picture puzzle pieces in the passing clouds
we can contemplate and dream upon the beauty of the signs.
I like to lay down with my head upon the grass,
laughing with the moon and winking back at stars that pass.
Every single star you see
and every rock within the sea
and every drop of rain that you've ever felt fall.
Every flake of snow is different,
every place you go is different,
everyone you know is different,
that's the beauty of it all.
Every print on every finger of each human on the earth
is different from each other finger print since the start of time.
Nadia speaks with her hands not a sound comes from her lips,
Abdullah doesn't use his eyes, reads with his finger tips.
Every face and you and me,
and every stripe on every bee,
every creature that you see swim, fly run or crawl,
every flake of snow is different,
every place you go is different, everyone you know is different
that's the beauty of it all.
Dawud Wharnsby-'Out Of Sight, Out Of Mind'
Well here we are shattered like our home
Well here we are frightened and alone
And we’ve returned to a land of fear
Holding back the images and tears
But where are those who understand the pain
To teach us truth to live in hope again
The guns have stopped
But horrors still the same
They gave us food but our thirsty souls remain
Do you hear the call of the Adhan
Is this for me please help me understand.
Well here we are out of sight and out of mind
Well there you are won’t you be so kind
They say a prayer for the future of Islam
They spilt our blood because of our Iman
Who will build these houses of Allah
Who’ll help erase the evil that we saw
Come stand with us a day will surely come
When our Jihaad brings hope to everyone
Here we are struggling to survive
Yes here we are wounded by the lies
Do you hear the call of the Adhan
Is this for me please help me understand
Well here we are hoping day and night
That you will respond
Although we’re out of sight.
Well here we are frightened and alone
And we’ve returned to a land of fear
Holding back the images and tears
But where are those who understand the pain
To teach us truth to live in hope again
The guns have stopped
But horrors still the same
They gave us food but our thirsty souls remain
Do you hear the call of the Adhan
Is this for me please help me understand.
Well here we are out of sight and out of mind
Well there you are won’t you be so kind
They say a prayer for the future of Islam
They spilt our blood because of our Iman
Who will build these houses of Allah
Who’ll help erase the evil that we saw
Come stand with us a day will surely come
When our Jihaad brings hope to everyone
Here we are struggling to survive
Yes here we are wounded by the lies
Do you hear the call of the Adhan
Is this for me please help me understand
Well here we are hoping day and night
That you will respond
Although we’re out of sight.
Dawud Wharnsby-'The Veil'
They say, "Oh, poor girl, you're so beautiful you know
It's a shame that you cover up your beauty so."
She just smiles and graciously responds reassuringly,
"This beauty that I have is just one simple part of me.
This body that I have, no stranger has the right to see.
These long clothes, this shawl I wear, ensure my modesty.
Faith is more essential than fashion, wouldn't you agree?"
This hijab,
This mark of piety,
Is an act of faith, a symbol,
For all the world to see.
A simple cloth, to preserve her dignity.
So lift the veil from your heart to see the heart of purity.
They tell her, "Girl, don't you know this is the West and you are free?
You don't need to be oppressed, ashamed of your femininity."
She just shakes her head and she speaks so assuredly,
"See the bill-boards and the magazines that line the check-out isles,
with their phony painted faces and their air-brushed smiles?
Well their sheer clothes and low cut gowns they are really not for me.
You call it freedom, I call it anarchy."
This hijab,
This mark of piety,
Is an act of faith, a symbol,
For all the world to see.
A simple cloth, to preserve her dignity.
So lift the veil from your heart to see the heart of purity.
Lift the veil from your heart and seek the heart of purity.
It's a shame that you cover up your beauty so."
She just smiles and graciously responds reassuringly,
"This beauty that I have is just one simple part of me.
This body that I have, no stranger has the right to see.
These long clothes, this shawl I wear, ensure my modesty.
Faith is more essential than fashion, wouldn't you agree?"
This hijab,
This mark of piety,
Is an act of faith, a symbol,
For all the world to see.
A simple cloth, to preserve her dignity.
So lift the veil from your heart to see the heart of purity.
They tell her, "Girl, don't you know this is the West and you are free?
You don't need to be oppressed, ashamed of your femininity."
She just shakes her head and she speaks so assuredly,
"See the bill-boards and the magazines that line the check-out isles,
with their phony painted faces and their air-brushed smiles?
Well their sheer clothes and low cut gowns they are really not for me.
You call it freedom, I call it anarchy."
This hijab,
This mark of piety,
Is an act of faith, a symbol,
For all the world to see.
A simple cloth, to preserve her dignity.
So lift the veil from your heart to see the heart of purity.
Lift the veil from your heart and seek the heart of purity.
Dawud Wharnsby-'Children of the world'
Walking through the crowded streets of a market in Morocco
Sitting on a smiling camel in the desert of Arabia
Chasing 'round the bamboo trees in Bandung Indonesia
Gathering brightly coloured leaves in a forest of Canada
Napping beneath the date palm shade under blue skies of Tunisia
Sweeping out his parents' shop on a side street in Pakistan
Planting rows of beans and maize on a small farm in Uganda
Laying back to count the stars from somewhere in Afghanistan
Oh Sing Children of the World (Sing along)
Come together and hear the call
Sing Children of the World (Sing along)
Islam will unite us all
Sing Children of the World (Sing along)
Come together and hear the call
Sing Children of the World (Sing along)
Islam will unite us all
Subhanallah, Wa Alhamdullillah Wa Allahu Akbar!
Subhanallah, Wa Alhamdullillah Wa Allahu Akbar!
Splashing through the pouring rain in a village of Guyana
Nibbling cakes from picnic plates on a mountain top in Switzerland
Tending to a flock of sheep down under in Australia
Greeting morning with a prayer on the golden Egyptian Sand
Oh Sing Children of the World (Sing along)
Come together and hear the call
Sing Children of the World (Sing along)
Islam will unite us all
Sing Children of the World (Sing along)
Come together and hear the call
Sing Children of the World (Sing along)
Islam will unite us all
Subhanallah, Wa Alhamdullillah Wa Allahu Akbar!
Subhanallah, Wa Alhamdullillah Wa Allahu Akbar!
Crying himself to sleep with no hope left for dreaming
Begging in the burning sun, holding out her hand
Palms held tightly on his ears to muffle all the screaming
Sitting where her house once stood trying hard to understand
See the Children of the World (Subhannallah)
All the Children of the World (Subhannallah)
Sing for the Children of the World (Subhannallah)
Pray for the Children of the World (Subhannallah)
[DWA and Children]
Sing Children of the World (Sing along)
Come together and hear the call
Sing Children of the World (Sing along)
Islam will unite us all
Sing Children of the World (Sing along)
Come together and hear the call
Sing Children of the World (Sing along)
Islam will unite us all
Sing Children of the World (Sing along)
Come together and hear the call
Sing Children of the World (Sing along)
Islam will unite us all
Subhanallah, Wa Alhamdullillah Wa Allahu Akbar!
Subhanallah, Wa Alhamdullillah Wa Allahu Akbar!
Sitting on a smiling camel in the desert of Arabia
Chasing 'round the bamboo trees in Bandung Indonesia
Gathering brightly coloured leaves in a forest of Canada
Napping beneath the date palm shade under blue skies of Tunisia
Sweeping out his parents' shop on a side street in Pakistan
Planting rows of beans and maize on a small farm in Uganda
Laying back to count the stars from somewhere in Afghanistan
Oh Sing Children of the World (Sing along)
Come together and hear the call
Sing Children of the World (Sing along)
Islam will unite us all
Sing Children of the World (Sing along)
Come together and hear the call
Sing Children of the World (Sing along)
Islam will unite us all
Subhanallah, Wa Alhamdullillah Wa Allahu Akbar!
Subhanallah, Wa Alhamdullillah Wa Allahu Akbar!
Splashing through the pouring rain in a village of Guyana
Nibbling cakes from picnic plates on a mountain top in Switzerland
Tending to a flock of sheep down under in Australia
Greeting morning with a prayer on the golden Egyptian Sand
Oh Sing Children of the World (Sing along)
Come together and hear the call
Sing Children of the World (Sing along)
Islam will unite us all
Sing Children of the World (Sing along)
Come together and hear the call
Sing Children of the World (Sing along)
Islam will unite us all
Subhanallah, Wa Alhamdullillah Wa Allahu Akbar!
Subhanallah, Wa Alhamdullillah Wa Allahu Akbar!
Crying himself to sleep with no hope left for dreaming
Begging in the burning sun, holding out her hand
Palms held tightly on his ears to muffle all the screaming
Sitting where her house once stood trying hard to understand
See the Children of the World (Subhannallah)
All the Children of the World (Subhannallah)
Sing for the Children of the World (Subhannallah)
Pray for the Children of the World (Subhannallah)
[DWA and Children]
Sing Children of the World (Sing along)
Come together and hear the call
Sing Children of the World (Sing along)
Islam will unite us all
Sing Children of the World (Sing along)
Come together and hear the call
Sing Children of the World (Sing along)
Islam will unite us all
Sing Children of the World (Sing along)
Come together and hear the call
Sing Children of the World (Sing along)
Islam will unite us all
Subhanallah, Wa Alhamdullillah Wa Allahu Akbar!
Subhanallah, Wa Alhamdullillah Wa Allahu Akbar!
Dawud Wharnsby-'SunShine, Dust And The Messenger'
Morning light through the bedroom window.
Slow motion dust specks swirling in the sun.
I close my eyes,
and I’m floating along.
Sun - did you warm the face of the Prophet
the way you warm mine and make this room glow?
Dust - were you brushed from the beard of the Prophet,
Returning from Jihad, so long ago?
Allahumma Salli `alaa Muhammad
Yaa Rabba-l `aalamiin
Allahumma Salli `alaa Muhammad Sallallaahu `alaihi wa salam
Rain pouring down upon my garden,
rhythm for the wind that sings his song.
I close my eyes
and I’m drumming along.
Rhythm of rain - were you once a river,
that purified the Prophet before his prayers?
Wind - were you a breath form the lips of the Prophet
carrying wisdom to thirsty ears?
Allahumma Salli `alaa Muhammad
Yaa Rabba-l `aalamiin
Allahumma Salli `alaa Muhammad Sallallaahu `alaihi wa salam
Sharp, clear crescent, light in the blue night.
Slipping in silence through a star scattered sky.
I close my eyes
and I know that I belong.
Were you the same moon that lit the way of the Prophet,
slipping through the desert on his Hijrah?
Stars did you map the way to Madinah,
for the blessed Messenger of Allah?
Allahumma Salli `alaa Muhammad
Yaa Rabba-l `aalamiin
Allahumma Salli `alaa Muhammad Sallallaahu `alaihi wa salam
I close my eyes,
and I’m floating along.
I close my eyes
and I’m drumming a song.
I close my eyes and I know that I belong.
Slow motion dust specks swirling in the sun.
I close my eyes,
and I’m floating along.
Sun - did you warm the face of the Prophet
the way you warm mine and make this room glow?
Dust - were you brushed from the beard of the Prophet,
Returning from Jihad, so long ago?
Allahumma Salli `alaa Muhammad
Yaa Rabba-l `aalamiin
Allahumma Salli `alaa Muhammad Sallallaahu `alaihi wa salam
Rain pouring down upon my garden,
rhythm for the wind that sings his song.
I close my eyes
and I’m drumming along.
Rhythm of rain - were you once a river,
that purified the Prophet before his prayers?
Wind - were you a breath form the lips of the Prophet
carrying wisdom to thirsty ears?
Allahumma Salli `alaa Muhammad
Yaa Rabba-l `aalamiin
Allahumma Salli `alaa Muhammad Sallallaahu `alaihi wa salam
Sharp, clear crescent, light in the blue night.
Slipping in silence through a star scattered sky.
I close my eyes
and I know that I belong.
Were you the same moon that lit the way of the Prophet,
slipping through the desert on his Hijrah?
Stars did you map the way to Madinah,
for the blessed Messenger of Allah?
Allahumma Salli `alaa Muhammad
Yaa Rabba-l `aalamiin
Allahumma Salli `alaa Muhammad Sallallaahu `alaihi wa salam
I close my eyes,
and I’m floating along.
I close my eyes
and I’m drumming a song.
I close my eyes and I know that I belong.
Dawud Wharnsby- ‘Full of Humility’
Put all our pride away,
always find a gentle word to say
you know we shouldn't fool ourselves,
Allah has given so much to you and me.
Put all our pride away,
Always thank Allah when we prey,
You know we shouldn't be full of ourselves
when we, should be full of humility.
We're all livin' here together on this planet floatin' round the sun
We're all equal to one another, no one's better than anyone
The only ting we have to weigh us all apart
is the faith only Allah can see, deep inside our hearts.
Put all our pride away,
always find a gentle word to say
you know we shouldn't fool ourselves,
Allah has given so much to you and me.
Put all our pride away,
Always thank Allah when we prey,
You know we shouldn't be full of ourselves
when we, should be full of humility.
Trying hard to simply be humble and never act too proud
It's easy to trip and stumble with your nose up above the clouds
Its always best to be modest and keep our feet on the ground
Cause pride will eat us up inside if we're arrogant and loud.
Put all our pride away,
always find a gentle word to say
you know we shouldn't fool ourselves,
Allah has given so much to you and me.
Put all our pride away,
Always thank Allah when we prey,
You know we shouldn't be full of ourselves
when we, should be full of humility
always find a gentle word to say
you know we shouldn't fool ourselves,
Allah has given so much to you and me.
Put all our pride away,
Always thank Allah when we prey,
You know we shouldn't be full of ourselves
when we, should be full of humility.
We're all livin' here together on this planet floatin' round the sun
We're all equal to one another, no one's better than anyone
The only ting we have to weigh us all apart
is the faith only Allah can see, deep inside our hearts.
Put all our pride away,
always find a gentle word to say
you know we shouldn't fool ourselves,
Allah has given so much to you and me.
Put all our pride away,
Always thank Allah when we prey,
You know we shouldn't be full of ourselves
when we, should be full of humility.
Trying hard to simply be humble and never act too proud
It's easy to trip and stumble with your nose up above the clouds
Its always best to be modest and keep our feet on the ground
Cause pride will eat us up inside if we're arrogant and loud.
Put all our pride away,
always find a gentle word to say
you know we shouldn't fool ourselves,
Allah has given so much to you and me.
Put all our pride away,
Always thank Allah when we prey,
You know we shouldn't be full of ourselves
when we, should be full of humility
Dawud Wharnsby-‘Crazy Spots I’ve Prayed’
All the earth is a place of prostration,
Every field and meadow, mountain, park, city, farm plantation.
Every roadside, seaside, hillside, walkway,
Any place clean and green can be a place to pray
When I think of every path, where I've ever trot,
I laugh at all the crazy spots I stopped to worship God.
Remember that long car ride?
Driving all night so far,
Under the summer moon we pulled off to the side,
Reclining in the front seat of the car.
Waking to a fajr bird sound,
And washing in the coin car wash we found.
With the water blaster making wudhu,
You sprayed me and I sprayed you.
We stood so drowsy in the dawn,
Behind the car wash dripping on the lawn.
All the earth is a place of prostration,
Every field and meadow, mountain, park, city, farm plantation.
Every roadside, seaside, hillside, walkway,
Any place clean and green can be a place to pray
When I think of every path, where I've ever trot,
I laugh at all the crazy spots I stopped to worship God.
Saturday shopping day, in a busy mall and bustling through the aisles,
Where everyone's getting in my way.
Each blank zombie we shop and face forty smiles.
Time comes for prayer attack,
Grab a pair of pants or a sweater from the rack.
Find a changing room and latch the door,
Set aside excuses and hit the floor.
As I go back to the mall,
It's easier then to make sense of it all.
All the earth is a place of prostration,
Every field and meadow, mountain, park, city, farm plantation.
Every roadside, seaside, hillside, walkway,
Any place clean and green can be a place to pray
When I think of every path, where I've ever trot,
I laugh at all the crazy spots I stopped to worship God.
And our socks froze to the blanket,
That we spread over the snow,
Your call to prayer bounced off the trees and across the icy meadow.
Crisp and clean cold air, our hearts were so aware,
Our bodies felt the frozen freedom what a very cool place for prayer!
All the earth is a place of prostration,
Every field and meadow, mountain, park, city, farm plantation.
Every roadside, seaside, hillside, walkway,
Any place clean and green can be a place to pray
When I think of every path, where I've ever trot,
I laugh at all the crazy spots I stopped to worship God.
There was a time next to the river;
There was a time in the school hall.
There was that stairwell in that building,
There was that forest in the fall.
The movie house corridor,
The airplane kitchen in the sky.
So many places I'm sure there'll be more
Pieces of earth to testify.
All the earth is a place of prostration,
Every field and meadow, mountain, park, city, farm plantation.
Every roadside, seaside, hillside, walkway,
Any place clean and green can be a place to pray
When I think of every path, where I've ever trot,
I laugh at all the crazy spots I stopped to worship God.
Every field and meadow, mountain, park, city, farm plantation.
Every roadside, seaside, hillside, walkway,
Any place clean and green can be a place to pray
When I think of every path, where I've ever trot,
I laugh at all the crazy spots I stopped to worship God.
Remember that long car ride?
Driving all night so far,
Under the summer moon we pulled off to the side,
Reclining in the front seat of the car.
Waking to a fajr bird sound,
And washing in the coin car wash we found.
With the water blaster making wudhu,
You sprayed me and I sprayed you.
We stood so drowsy in the dawn,
Behind the car wash dripping on the lawn.
All the earth is a place of prostration,
Every field and meadow, mountain, park, city, farm plantation.
Every roadside, seaside, hillside, walkway,
Any place clean and green can be a place to pray
When I think of every path, where I've ever trot,
I laugh at all the crazy spots I stopped to worship God.
Saturday shopping day, in a busy mall and bustling through the aisles,
Where everyone's getting in my way.
Each blank zombie we shop and face forty smiles.
Time comes for prayer attack,
Grab a pair of pants or a sweater from the rack.
Find a changing room and latch the door,
Set aside excuses and hit the floor.
As I go back to the mall,
It's easier then to make sense of it all.
All the earth is a place of prostration,
Every field and meadow, mountain, park, city, farm plantation.
Every roadside, seaside, hillside, walkway,
Any place clean and green can be a place to pray
When I think of every path, where I've ever trot,
I laugh at all the crazy spots I stopped to worship God.
And our socks froze to the blanket,
That we spread over the snow,
Your call to prayer bounced off the trees and across the icy meadow.
Crisp and clean cold air, our hearts were so aware,
Our bodies felt the frozen freedom what a very cool place for prayer!
All the earth is a place of prostration,
Every field and meadow, mountain, park, city, farm plantation.
Every roadside, seaside, hillside, walkway,
Any place clean and green can be a place to pray
When I think of every path, where I've ever trot,
I laugh at all the crazy spots I stopped to worship God.
There was a time next to the river;
There was a time in the school hall.
There was that stairwell in that building,
There was that forest in the fall.
The movie house corridor,
The airplane kitchen in the sky.
So many places I'm sure there'll be more
Pieces of earth to testify.
All the earth is a place of prostration,
Every field and meadow, mountain, park, city, farm plantation.
Every roadside, seaside, hillside, walkway,
Any place clean and green can be a place to pray
When I think of every path, where I've ever trot,
I laugh at all the crazy spots I stopped to worship God.
Dawud Wharnsby-‘The People of The Boxes’
There were once some people
Who all saw their lives like empty boxes
They looked around the world
Collecting up the things they liked.
They filled their lives and boxes
With the goodies that they gathered
And they all felt in control
Content and they all felt alright.
They climbed inside their boxes
They settled with their trinkets.
They neither looked nor learned much more
And closed their lids up tight.
Once they fastened up their boxes
They smiled there inside
And they all thought in their darkness
That the world was clear and bright.
But the world is not a box
There’s no lid no doors
No cardboard flaps or locks
And everything in nature
From the clouds to the rocks
Is a piece of the puzzle of the purpose of man
It’s a piece of the peace of Islam.
Along came a wandering wiseman
Whispering such words of truth
He stumbled on these boxes
So separate side by side
He knocked upon the first one saying
Please come out and feel the day
An answer came from deep within
You’re not of us please go away
He approached the second box
And tapped twice on the lid saying
Peace to you inside
Shall I show you a new way
Someone peaked out from a crack and said
You may just have a point
But it’s so comfy in my box
In my box here I will stay
But the world is not a box
There is no lid, no doors
No cardboard flaps of locks
And everything in nature
From the clouds to the rocks
Is the piece of the puzzle of the purpose of man
Is the piece of the peace of Islam
He stood before the final box
A hiding face peaked out to him
And much to his surprise
He said I recognise those eyes
I see you and you see me
Why not come out and be free
Faith and flowers wilt and die
If they are hidden from the sky.
Cause the world is not a box
There is no lid, no doors
No cardboard flaps of locks
And everything in nature
From the clouds to the rocks
Is the piece of the puzzle of the purpose of man
Is the piece of the peace of Islam
Now the centuries lie between
All the prophets and you and I
Civilisations are born and die
Each and everyday
We see good and bad and happy, sad
And mad mistakes we wish we hadn’t made
In our attempt to try and live up to their ways
But if we hide ourselves away
Afraid to grow and learn
We might wake up in the flames
Of the ignorance that burns
And we’ll never be much more
Than only casualties of war
In a struggle we can’t win
If we have no faith to begin
We’ve got to tip the lid
And let some sunlight in
Cause the world is not a box
There is no lid, no doors
No cardboard flaps of locks
And everything in nature
From the clouds to the rocks
Is the piece of the puzzle of the purpose of man
Is the piece of the peace of Islam.
Who all saw their lives like empty boxes
They looked around the world
Collecting up the things they liked.
They filled their lives and boxes
With the goodies that they gathered
And they all felt in control
Content and they all felt alright.
They climbed inside their boxes
They settled with their trinkets.
They neither looked nor learned much more
And closed their lids up tight.
Once they fastened up their boxes
They smiled there inside
And they all thought in their darkness
That the world was clear and bright.
But the world is not a box
There’s no lid no doors
No cardboard flaps or locks
And everything in nature
From the clouds to the rocks
Is a piece of the puzzle of the purpose of man
It’s a piece of the peace of Islam.
Along came a wandering wiseman
Whispering such words of truth
He stumbled on these boxes
So separate side by side
He knocked upon the first one saying
Please come out and feel the day
An answer came from deep within
You’re not of us please go away
He approached the second box
And tapped twice on the lid saying
Peace to you inside
Shall I show you a new way
Someone peaked out from a crack and said
You may just have a point
But it’s so comfy in my box
In my box here I will stay
But the world is not a box
There is no lid, no doors
No cardboard flaps of locks
And everything in nature
From the clouds to the rocks
Is the piece of the puzzle of the purpose of man
Is the piece of the peace of Islam
He stood before the final box
A hiding face peaked out to him
And much to his surprise
He said I recognise those eyes
I see you and you see me
Why not come out and be free
Faith and flowers wilt and die
If they are hidden from the sky.
Cause the world is not a box
There is no lid, no doors
No cardboard flaps of locks
And everything in nature
From the clouds to the rocks
Is the piece of the puzzle of the purpose of man
Is the piece of the peace of Islam
Now the centuries lie between
All the prophets and you and I
Civilisations are born and die
Each and everyday
We see good and bad and happy, sad
And mad mistakes we wish we hadn’t made
In our attempt to try and live up to their ways
But if we hide ourselves away
Afraid to grow and learn
We might wake up in the flames
Of the ignorance that burns
And we’ll never be much more
Than only casualties of war
In a struggle we can’t win
If we have no faith to begin
We’ve got to tip the lid
And let some sunlight in
Cause the world is not a box
There is no lid, no doors
No cardboard flaps of locks
And everything in nature
From the clouds to the rocks
Is the piece of the puzzle of the purpose of man
Is the piece of the peace of Islam.
Dawud Wharnsby-‘ Afraid to Read’
How many words she’s read before, she’s consumed two thousand books or more.
Musty pulp and glue soundproof her tiny room.
She cannot understand why this book in her hand
fascinates her now so much that she’s almost shy to touch.
“Don’t think about the words it’s just a book - paper and ink”
She reaffirms, remind herself, “a book can’t dictate what to think.”
It invites, intrigues her more than others on her shelf
“Is it just another book?” - she sits questioning herself.
Oh Allah, she’s so afraid to read,
the wisdom that’s revealed may burrow in her mind
She’ll be obliged to admit,
She’ll be obliged to submit
But will she be strong enough to live the truth she finds?
Oh Allah, she’s so afraid to read.
The hall light is always on every night that he is gone.
He hears his mother toss in bed when he slips in at dawn.
In the book case by the stair, he can see it sitting there
like a waiting watchful wise-man scolding him with care.
In the morning will they fight about him being out all night?
Will he resent their gift of love and not admit that they are right?
All he wants is to fit in some place, but must he compromise his faith?
He can’t look himself or his parents in the face.
He takes the book upstairs unread and sets it closed next to his head
then counts the prayers he’s missed and lays so hopelessly in bed.
Oh Allah, he’s so afraid to read,
the wisdom that’s revealed may burrow in his mind
He’ll be obliged to admit,
He’ll be obliged to submit
But will he be strong enough to live the truth he finds?
Oh Allah, he’s so afraid to read.
I sent an email to my loved one, just the other day
It’s sad communication has evolved this way.
We use so many words but have so little to relay
as angels scribble down every letter that we say.
All the viral attachments sent and passionate insults we vent
It’s easy to be arrogant behind user passwords we invent.
But on the day the scrolls are laid, with every word and deed displayed,
when we read our accounts, I know, for one, I’ll be afraid.
That day I’ll be so afraid to read,
every harsh word that I’ve spoken - and every time I have lied.
I’ll be obliged to admit,
I’ll be obliged to submit
Will I have strength owning up to each deed I’ve tried to hide?
Oh Allah, I’m so afraid to read.
Musty pulp and glue soundproof her tiny room.
She cannot understand why this book in her hand
fascinates her now so much that she’s almost shy to touch.
“Don’t think about the words it’s just a book - paper and ink”
She reaffirms, remind herself, “a book can’t dictate what to think.”
It invites, intrigues her more than others on her shelf
“Is it just another book?” - she sits questioning herself.
Oh Allah, she’s so afraid to read,
the wisdom that’s revealed may burrow in her mind
She’ll be obliged to admit,
She’ll be obliged to submit
But will she be strong enough to live the truth she finds?
Oh Allah, she’s so afraid to read.
The hall light is always on every night that he is gone.
He hears his mother toss in bed when he slips in at dawn.
In the book case by the stair, he can see it sitting there
like a waiting watchful wise-man scolding him with care.
In the morning will they fight about him being out all night?
Will he resent their gift of love and not admit that they are right?
All he wants is to fit in some place, but must he compromise his faith?
He can’t look himself or his parents in the face.
He takes the book upstairs unread and sets it closed next to his head
then counts the prayers he’s missed and lays so hopelessly in bed.
Oh Allah, he’s so afraid to read,
the wisdom that’s revealed may burrow in his mind
He’ll be obliged to admit,
He’ll be obliged to submit
But will he be strong enough to live the truth he finds?
Oh Allah, he’s so afraid to read.
I sent an email to my loved one, just the other day
It’s sad communication has evolved this way.
We use so many words but have so little to relay
as angels scribble down every letter that we say.
All the viral attachments sent and passionate insults we vent
It’s easy to be arrogant behind user passwords we invent.
But on the day the scrolls are laid, with every word and deed displayed,
when we read our accounts, I know, for one, I’ll be afraid.
That day I’ll be so afraid to read,
every harsh word that I’ve spoken - and every time I have lied.
I’ll be obliged to admit,
I’ll be obliged to submit
Will I have strength owning up to each deed I’ve tried to hide?
Oh Allah, I’m so afraid to read.
Dawud Wharnsby-'Ummati Answer Me'
Come - listen to her story with me
In a world of opportunity
A little girl has lots to say
But everyone's so far away
Come - listen to her story with me
Her tiny life and tiny hands shake
Ashamed of her unknown mistake
A child’s hopes and tears in vain
She believes she is to blame
Listen to her story with me
Chorus
“Ya Ummati (Oh, my People), answer me:
Why am I suffering this way?
Ummati, I am so afraid
Don't I have the right to learn and play?"
A silent call to you and me
Too caught up with our lives to hear or see
We will answer to Allah one day
Then what will we have to say -
For busy lives so void of mercy?
Chorus
Allah created beauty, innocence and peace
And He blessed us with the children to remind us all of these
Allah entrusted to us all a gift to hold so near
To teach with love - teach how to love
Allah's Command is clear
In Allah's Garden, there’s a flower at play
The abandoned gift we turned away
Had we only been brave enough to hear -
Her playground prayer to our deaf ear
Her smile might not haunt us today
Chorus
Ya Ummati, we all know the answer
The ignorance must end today
Ummati, open up your heart
Every child has the right to learn and play
Every child has the right to grow and pray
In a world of opportunity
A little girl has lots to say
But everyone's so far away
Come - listen to her story with me
Her tiny life and tiny hands shake
Ashamed of her unknown mistake
A child’s hopes and tears in vain
She believes she is to blame
Listen to her story with me
Chorus
“Ya Ummati (Oh, my People), answer me:
Why am I suffering this way?
Ummati, I am so afraid
Don't I have the right to learn and play?"
A silent call to you and me
Too caught up with our lives to hear or see
We will answer to Allah one day
Then what will we have to say -
For busy lives so void of mercy?
Chorus
Allah created beauty, innocence and peace
And He blessed us with the children to remind us all of these
Allah entrusted to us all a gift to hold so near
To teach with love - teach how to love
Allah's Command is clear
In Allah's Garden, there’s a flower at play
The abandoned gift we turned away
Had we only been brave enough to hear -
Her playground prayer to our deaf ear
Her smile might not haunt us today
Chorus
Ya Ummati, we all know the answer
The ignorance must end today
Ummati, open up your heart
Every child has the right to learn and play
Every child has the right to grow and pray
Dawud Wharnsby - ‘The Beautiful Story’
We sipped our tea as he sat next to me, cross legged on the floor
and he spoke of his youth thrown to the wolves
a student of the hardship of war.
A war which shaped him and molded him to a grateful and God fearing man;
the struggle of a nation burned in his eyes as he re-lived his war-torn homeland.
Accused and abuse he was stolen away,
no justice exists with no law
Like the Prophet Yusuf he was thrown into prison
but they couldn’t cage his faith in Allah.
The beautiful story of Yusuf has so much to fill our lives.
A lesson in forgiveness and brotherhood we cannot compromise.
The power of patience and the fire of hope, must burn in the hearts of the wise.
The beautiful story of Yusuf has so much to fill our lives.
It seemed like endless days and morningless nights, his family so blind with concern,
while he held tight to his hope and his faith in Allah
for the day they would see his return.
The guards laughing in the black of the night as they kicked him and beat him raw,
and the blood and the dirt and the grime of the world and the dark side of man that he saw.
And in the minutes and months and years that dripped by, greying away his youth,
he spent his hours in quiet worship and in silent struggle for the truth.
The beautiful story of Yusuf has so much to fill our lives.
A lesson in forgiveness and brotherhood we cannot compromise.
The power of patience and the fire of hope, must burn in the hearts of the wise.
The beautiful story of Yusuf has so much to fill our lives.
He wiped tears from his cheek with the smile on his face,
brushed the hair back from his daughter’s eyes
and as she finished her lesson and closed her Qur’an, it was clear then to recognize,
Allah only tests those who are loved.
His little girl climbed up onto his knees.
The words of Allah are clear to the world, “With hardship will always come ease.”
The beautiful story of Yusuf has so much to fill our lives.
A lesson in forgiveness and brotherhood we cannot compromise.
The power of patience and the fire of hope, must burn in the hearts of the wise.
The beautiful story of Yusuf has so much to fill our lives.
and he spoke of his youth thrown to the wolves
a student of the hardship of war.
A war which shaped him and molded him to a grateful and God fearing man;
the struggle of a nation burned in his eyes as he re-lived his war-torn homeland.
Accused and abuse he was stolen away,
no justice exists with no law
Like the Prophet Yusuf he was thrown into prison
but they couldn’t cage his faith in Allah.
The beautiful story of Yusuf has so much to fill our lives.
A lesson in forgiveness and brotherhood we cannot compromise.
The power of patience and the fire of hope, must burn in the hearts of the wise.
The beautiful story of Yusuf has so much to fill our lives.
It seemed like endless days and morningless nights, his family so blind with concern,
while he held tight to his hope and his faith in Allah
for the day they would see his return.
The guards laughing in the black of the night as they kicked him and beat him raw,
and the blood and the dirt and the grime of the world and the dark side of man that he saw.
And in the minutes and months and years that dripped by, greying away his youth,
he spent his hours in quiet worship and in silent struggle for the truth.
The beautiful story of Yusuf has so much to fill our lives.
A lesson in forgiveness and brotherhood we cannot compromise.
The power of patience and the fire of hope, must burn in the hearts of the wise.
The beautiful story of Yusuf has so much to fill our lives.
He wiped tears from his cheek with the smile on his face,
brushed the hair back from his daughter’s eyes
and as she finished her lesson and closed her Qur’an, it was clear then to recognize,
Allah only tests those who are loved.
His little girl climbed up onto his knees.
The words of Allah are clear to the world, “With hardship will always come ease.”
The beautiful story of Yusuf has so much to fill our lives.
A lesson in forgiveness and brotherhood we cannot compromise.
The power of patience and the fire of hope, must burn in the hearts of the wise.
The beautiful story of Yusuf has so much to fill our lives.
Dawud Wharnsby - ‘Madina tun Nabi’
There was merriment and joy
a smile on the face of every girl and boy
The streets of Yathrib welcomed in the Prophet of Allah
Muhammad, salla allahu 'alayhi wa sallam
A full white moon shone down upon the land
rising from the valley between hills of sand
Being grateful to Allah was the Prophet's demand
spreading peace through the streets of Madinah
Chorus
Madina tun-Nabi, Madina tun-Nabi, the city of the
Prophet is like home to me
I'll travel through the world but I doubt that I will see
a city with such wonder as Madinah
Now the narrow winding roads are so full of history
streets shake with the azan from Masjid un-Nabi
I feel the shadow of the Prophet gently cooling me
as I walk through the streets of Madinah
Chorus
The man who reads Qur'an `neath a date palm tree
and the smile from the child on the street selling tea
enchant me with their beauty and their simplicity
as I walk through the streets of Madinah.
Chorus
Al Madinatul Munawarah, o enlightened city!
Al Madinatul Munawarah, even in my sleep you call to me
Time has hurried by, time has travelled on so fast
and though wisdom and truth will always last
I wish, I wish, I wish that I could climb into the past
and live with the Prophet in Madinah
Chorus
My heart is never far from the home of the Ansar
and the city of the Prophet, al-Madinah
a smile on the face of every girl and boy
The streets of Yathrib welcomed in the Prophet of Allah
Muhammad, salla allahu 'alayhi wa sallam
A full white moon shone down upon the land
rising from the valley between hills of sand
Being grateful to Allah was the Prophet's demand
spreading peace through the streets of Madinah
Chorus
Madina tun-Nabi, Madina tun-Nabi, the city of the
Prophet is like home to me
I'll travel through the world but I doubt that I will see
a city with such wonder as Madinah
Now the narrow winding roads are so full of history
streets shake with the azan from Masjid un-Nabi
I feel the shadow of the Prophet gently cooling me
as I walk through the streets of Madinah
Chorus
The man who reads Qur'an `neath a date palm tree
and the smile from the child on the street selling tea
enchant me with their beauty and their simplicity
as I walk through the streets of Madinah.
Chorus
Al Madinatul Munawarah, o enlightened city!
Al Madinatul Munawarah, even in my sleep you call to me
Time has hurried by, time has travelled on so fast
and though wisdom and truth will always last
I wish, I wish, I wish that I could climb into the past
and live with the Prophet in Madinah
Chorus
My heart is never far from the home of the Ansar
and the city of the Prophet, al-Madinah
Dawud Wharnsby - ‘Midnight’
He sat back in his arrogant sort of way.
He said, “There’s nothing more to say.”
then lectured on for another hour.
She said, everything was fine.
She said, she didn’t like to whine,
then cried on for another hour.
They sat there screaming through the room was silent.
They sat so still though the scene was violent.
And words can never really help you say,
what you want them to anyway.
And words can never really help you see,
what you really want to be.
He took a last sip of cold tea.
Last chance to stop all these lies.
Last chance to clean up these lives.
This could be the final hour.
This could be the final hour, or
this could be the finest hour.
And words can never really help you say
what you want them to anyway.
And words can never really help you see,
what you really want to be.
He took a last sip of cold tea.
He said, “There’s nothing more to say.”
then lectured on for another hour.
She said, everything was fine.
She said, she didn’t like to whine,
then cried on for another hour.
They sat there screaming through the room was silent.
They sat so still though the scene was violent.
And words can never really help you say,
what you want them to anyway.
And words can never really help you see,
what you really want to be.
He took a last sip of cold tea.
Last chance to stop all these lies.
Last chance to clean up these lives.
This could be the final hour.
This could be the final hour, or
this could be the finest hour.
And words can never really help you say
what you want them to anyway.
And words can never really help you see,
what you really want to be.
He took a last sip of cold tea.
Dawud Wharnsby - ‘Remember Allah’
You can always tell when Allah remembers you,
Just remember Allah that’s all you have to do.
All you have to do to have Allah remember you,
Is just remember allah jalla jalalahu.
Remember when you’re swinging,
Remember when you’re singing,
Remember when you’re biking,
Or hiking through the trees.
Remember when you’re laughing,
Remember when you’re crying,
Remember when you’re working
In the garden on your knees.
You can always tell when Allah remembers you,
Just remember Allah that’s all you have to do.
All you have to do to have Allah remember you,
Is just remember allah jalla jalalahu.
Make zhikr when you’re playing,
And zhikr when you’re praying.
Make zhikr when you’re walking,
Or standing in a line.
Make zhikr in your head,
And when you’re laying in your bed.
Make zhikr in a chair,
Make zhikr anywhere.
You can always tell when Allah remembers you,
Just remember Allah that’s all you have to do.
All you have to do to have Allah remember you,
Is just remember allah jalla jalalahu.
Zhikr is reflection,
That brings Allah’s protection.
Puts you in the right direction,
To love Allah.
You can always tell when Allah remembers you,
Just remember Allah that’s all you have to do.
All you have to do to have Allah remember you,
Is just remember Allah jalla jalalahu
Just remember Allah that’s all you have to do.
All you have to do to have Allah remember you,
Is just remember allah jalla jalalahu.
Remember when you’re swinging,
Remember when you’re singing,
Remember when you’re biking,
Or hiking through the trees.
Remember when you’re laughing,
Remember when you’re crying,
Remember when you’re working
In the garden on your knees.
You can always tell when Allah remembers you,
Just remember Allah that’s all you have to do.
All you have to do to have Allah remember you,
Is just remember allah jalla jalalahu.
Make zhikr when you’re playing,
And zhikr when you’re praying.
Make zhikr when you’re walking,
Or standing in a line.
Make zhikr in your head,
And when you’re laying in your bed.
Make zhikr in a chair,
Make zhikr anywhere.
You can always tell when Allah remembers you,
Just remember Allah that’s all you have to do.
All you have to do to have Allah remember you,
Is just remember allah jalla jalalahu.
Zhikr is reflection,
That brings Allah’s protection.
Puts you in the right direction,
To love Allah.
You can always tell when Allah remembers you,
Just remember Allah that’s all you have to do.
All you have to do to have Allah remember you,
Is just remember Allah jalla jalalahu
Dawud Wharnsby - ‘Silent Sunlight’
La ilaha illallah
La ilaha illallah
Silent sunlight welcome in, there is work I must now begin,
All my dreams have blown away.
And the children wait to play,
They’ll soon remember things to do,
When the heart is young and the night is done and the sky is blue.
La ilaha illallah
La ilaha illallah
Morning song birds sing away,
Lend a tune to another day,
Bring your wings and choose a roof,
Sing a song of love and truth.
We’ll soon remember if you do,
When all things were tall,
And our friends were small,
And the world was new.
La ilaha illallah
La ilaha illallah
Sleepy horses heave away,
Put your backs to the golden hay,
Don’t ever look behind at the work you’ve done,
For your work has just begun.
Ther’ll be the evening in the end,
But till that time arrives,
You can rest your eyes,
And begin again.
La ilaha illallah
Silent sunlight
La ilaha illallah
Morning sun
La ilaha illallah
Silent sunlight welcome in.
La ilaha illallah
Silent sunlight welcome in, there is work I must now begin,
All my dreams have blown away.
And the children wait to play,
They’ll soon remember things to do,
When the heart is young and the night is done and the sky is blue.
La ilaha illallah
La ilaha illallah
Morning song birds sing away,
Lend a tune to another day,
Bring your wings and choose a roof,
Sing a song of love and truth.
We’ll soon remember if you do,
When all things were tall,
And our friends were small,
And the world was new.
La ilaha illallah
La ilaha illallah
Sleepy horses heave away,
Put your backs to the golden hay,
Don’t ever look behind at the work you’ve done,
For your work has just begun.
Ther’ll be the evening in the end,
But till that time arrives,
You can rest your eyes,
And begin again.
La ilaha illallah
Silent sunlight
La ilaha illallah
Morning sun
La ilaha illallah
Silent sunlight welcome in.
Dawud Wharnsby (feat Yusuf Islam & Zain Bhikha)–‘The Prophet's Hands’
Holding to the wheel each mile closer to conclusion,
His knuckles and his strands of hair are slowly turning white.
As he studies all the lines like highways on his hands,
He recalls how straight the road once seemed as he’s left wondering what’s right.
The paths all curve and bend,
Sometimes he thinks they’ll never end.
How much longer will he push on?
How much more can he pretend?
The Prophet’s hands,
Silk and smooth and soft to touch
Sometimes he needs those hands so much,
To feel them clasp his own,
Let him know he’s not alone,
The Prophet’s hands,
If they could take over the reigns,
If they could take away the strains,
Guide him to the end,
With the patience of a friend.
O Allah sometimes he needs the prophet’s hands.
Stepping out to work each day, come whatever weather,
Father of the house he holds worry in his hands,
While she stays home left alone,
Hands worn from too much ironing,
T.V churns out but illusions,
Claims to know but hardly understands.
They greet but hardly meet,
Upon an endless dead end street,
While children break the stormy silence,
Of the palms raised in defeat.
The Prophet’s hands,
Silk and smooth and soft to touch
Sometimes they need those hands so much,
To feel them clasp their own,
Let them know they’re not alone,
The prophet’s hands,
Can bind husband and wife,
Remind them why they share a life,
Clasp them both upon his heart,
Gently help them make a start,
To hold each other as they hold the Prophet’s hands.
Standing in the market square,
So alive but void of life,
We work and we sweat and we struggle through each day.
As our efforts scar our hands,
This road stains us with demands,
It’s hard to see life’s humor in the business games we play.
And as we knar our nails and stress our fists and hearts pant so careless,
And kneel with every effort forward how much more can we regress?
The Prophet’s hands,
Silk and smooth and soft to touch
Sometimes we need those hands so much,
To feel them clasp our own,
Let us know we’re not alone,
The Prophet’s hands,
As we toil in the square,
Come look behind us unaware,
Playful palms across our eyes,
Easing to help us realize,
We need the jesting, joking, loving Prophet’s hands.
The Prophet’s hands
Silk and smooth and soft to touch
Sometimes we need those hands so much,
To feel them clasp our own,
Let us know we’re not alone
The Prophet’s hands,
If they could take over the reigns,
If they could take away the strains,
Guide us to the end,
With the patience of a friend.
O Allah sometimes we need the Prophet’s hands,
O Allah sometimes we need the prophet’s hands,
O Allah sometimes we miss the Prophet’s hands.
His knuckles and his strands of hair are slowly turning white.
As he studies all the lines like highways on his hands,
He recalls how straight the road once seemed as he’s left wondering what’s right.
The paths all curve and bend,
Sometimes he thinks they’ll never end.
How much longer will he push on?
How much more can he pretend?
The Prophet’s hands,
Silk and smooth and soft to touch
Sometimes he needs those hands so much,
To feel them clasp his own,
Let him know he’s not alone,
The Prophet’s hands,
If they could take over the reigns,
If they could take away the strains,
Guide him to the end,
With the patience of a friend.
O Allah sometimes he needs the prophet’s hands.
Stepping out to work each day, come whatever weather,
Father of the house he holds worry in his hands,
While she stays home left alone,
Hands worn from too much ironing,
T.V churns out but illusions,
Claims to know but hardly understands.
They greet but hardly meet,
Upon an endless dead end street,
While children break the stormy silence,
Of the palms raised in defeat.
The Prophet’s hands,
Silk and smooth and soft to touch
Sometimes they need those hands so much,
To feel them clasp their own,
Let them know they’re not alone,
The prophet’s hands,
Can bind husband and wife,
Remind them why they share a life,
Clasp them both upon his heart,
Gently help them make a start,
To hold each other as they hold the Prophet’s hands.
Standing in the market square,
So alive but void of life,
We work and we sweat and we struggle through each day.
As our efforts scar our hands,
This road stains us with demands,
It’s hard to see life’s humor in the business games we play.
And as we knar our nails and stress our fists and hearts pant so careless,
And kneel with every effort forward how much more can we regress?
The Prophet’s hands,
Silk and smooth and soft to touch
Sometimes we need those hands so much,
To feel them clasp our own,
Let us know we’re not alone,
The Prophet’s hands,
As we toil in the square,
Come look behind us unaware,
Playful palms across our eyes,
Easing to help us realize,
We need the jesting, joking, loving Prophet’s hands.
The Prophet’s hands
Silk and smooth and soft to touch
Sometimes we need those hands so much,
To feel them clasp our own,
Let us know we’re not alone
The Prophet’s hands,
If they could take over the reigns,
If they could take away the strains,
Guide us to the end,
With the patience of a friend.
O Allah sometimes we need the Prophet’s hands,
O Allah sometimes we need the prophet’s hands,
O Allah sometimes we miss the Prophet’s hands.
Friday, February 15, 2008
Debu - 'Nyawa dan Cinta'
Nyawa dan cinta menjelma
Yakni kedua-duanya
Di zaman dulu bersama
Diciptakan oleh Allah
Dengan cara sangat khusus
Roh dan cinta dicampurkan
Dan cinta yang memang halus
Menghilang dalam campuran
Kekuatan campurannya
Menyatukan roh dan cinta
Entah cinta atau nyawa
Jadi zat atau sifatnya
Mungkin cinta jadi zatnya
Yaitu zat campurannya
Mungkin roh jadi sifatnya
Atau mungkin sebaliknya
Dengan cara sangat khusus
Roh dan cinta dicampurkan
Dan cinta yang memang halus
Menghilang dalam campuran
Natijah campuran itu
Cinta dan roh berbicara
Dan saling dengar begitu
Bersama dipelihara
Asal cinta api tapi
Angin itu asal nyawa
Angin menyalakan api
Maka membakar anginnya
Dengan cara sangat khusus
Roh dan cinta dicampurkan
Dan cinta yang memang halus
Menghilang dalam campuran
Entah ini, entah itu
Saya tidak tahu, kawan
Memang tidak tahu jitu
Adalah keajaiban
Dengan cara sangat khusus
Roh dan cinta dicampurkan
Dan cinta yang memang halus
Menghilang dalam campuran
Yakni kedua-duanya
Di zaman dulu bersama
Diciptakan oleh Allah
Dengan cara sangat khusus
Roh dan cinta dicampurkan
Dan cinta yang memang halus
Menghilang dalam campuran
Kekuatan campurannya
Menyatukan roh dan cinta
Entah cinta atau nyawa
Jadi zat atau sifatnya
Mungkin cinta jadi zatnya
Yaitu zat campurannya
Mungkin roh jadi sifatnya
Atau mungkin sebaliknya
Dengan cara sangat khusus
Roh dan cinta dicampurkan
Dan cinta yang memang halus
Menghilang dalam campuran
Natijah campuran itu
Cinta dan roh berbicara
Dan saling dengar begitu
Bersama dipelihara
Asal cinta api tapi
Angin itu asal nyawa
Angin menyalakan api
Maka membakar anginnya
Dengan cara sangat khusus
Roh dan cinta dicampurkan
Dan cinta yang memang halus
Menghilang dalam campuran
Entah ini, entah itu
Saya tidak tahu, kawan
Memang tidak tahu jitu
Adalah keajaiban
Dengan cara sangat khusus
Roh dan cinta dicampurkan
Dan cinta yang memang halus
Menghilang dalam campuran
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