Now, between Yad Chana and the neighbouring TulKarem
A Muazin is fighting from the top of the Mosque
Layla is alone, behind heavy glass
I try to tune in but can't hear
Layla is in the radio, may be she calls me
I still remember a burning field and the beat from above
I feel the heat in my eyes, and suddenly I wake up without a friend
A white room closes on me, it is dark tonight
Layla tonight Layla tonight, Layla tonight Layla tonight
Radio Ramalla, night after night
It is her whispering voice, chatterbox, wins me over, 1965
I feel blurred
Radio Ramalla, night after night
One day we will meet, will remember and get excited
How it was in 65, Layla Layla
And so, I miss opportunities
I imagine what was, and what could have been
Memories blend with longings
And they burn, like salt on the wounds
I hear a machine, between a mine field and cotton field
Slices the connection between us
Layla is not answering but I still hope
God is great, he is probably on our side
Layla is on radio, may be he will answer my prayers
I try to look for her but can't tune the radio
Layla keeps quite, a portable radio is playing
I wish I could ring Layla tonight
Layla tonight Layla tonight.....
Radio Ramalla, night after night
It is her whispering voice, chatterbox, wins me over, 1965
I feel blurred
Radio Ramalla, night after night
One day we will meet, will remember and get excited
How it was in 65, Layla Layla