I want to go back to Isfahan I will go back to that half of the world go to sit next to Zayandeh Read from the bottom of my song and poem and song song and poem I here I am here for my secret and need there I can call it
Smoon Crying on my life The tears in my house I was a companion of his distancing I was like the sonnet of blood on the pub.
Consider who to say when to empty the heart of my heart How do I get it to this
I want to go back to Isfahan I will go back to half the world
