Bouzuki

The old records hum softly as we gather once again,
Faces bloom with laughter in the warm, familiar air.
We raise the dusty memories and let the night begin,
A circle of friends, a quiet joy beyond compare.

Chorus:
Opa, opa, ta buzuKi!
Opa, opa, baglama!
Let the old pain drift away, in this moment we belong,
The party in the house is singing, lifting every heart along.

Let the vinyl sigh remind us of brighter days we knew,
Let the soul melt frost away, and courage find its flame.
In five short minutes, grief dissolves, giving room for blue:
To dance and dream, to sing, to share this simple and sacred frame.

Chorus:
Opa, opa, ta buzuKi!
Opa, opa, baglama!
Let the old pain drift away, in this moment we belong,
The party in the house is singing, lifting every heart along.

Don’t be sad, stand up, you’re loved here, and warmth surrounds you,
Trust that we will cut away misfortune, here in our warm throng.
Hurry back into our circle, where familiar faces glow anew,
For family gathers close, and hearts find their lifelong song.

Chorus:
Opa, opa, ta buzuKi!
Opa, opa, baglama!
Let the old pain drift away, in this moment we belong,
The party in the house is singing, lifting every heart along.