album cover
Roni
112
Blues
Roni was released on March 2, 2026 by Ghesquiere as a part of the album Steeve & Roni
album cover
Release DateMarch 2, 2026
LabelGhesquiere
LanguageEnglish
Melodicness
Acousticness
Valence
Danceability
Energy
BPM58

Music Video

Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Ghesquiere Steeve
Ghesquiere Steeve
Mixed Artist
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Ghesquiere Steeve
Ghesquiere Steeve
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Ghesquiere Steeve
Ghesquiere Steeve
Producer

Lyrics

Barely twenty years, with exile packed in a bag,
Leaving the East behind, like an old tattered flag.
A crumpled ticket, a dream sewn in the seam,
She crossed the borders chasing a ghost of a dream.
The sky here is grey, but it doesn't smell the same,
It’s the scent of money hiding the weight of the shame.
Oh, Roni, the promised land is a desert of glass,
Counting your pennies just to let the winter pass.
Far from your kin, heart frozen by a wind so lean,
Just a shadow serving drinks in a city so mean.
The blues drips on your tray, bitter and cold,
Little girl from the East, with a story untold.
Under the neon glare, she clears the dirty glass,
Enduring the hollow lines and the talk that is crass.
They think they buy her soul with a tip and a sneer,
They don't see the steel in her eyes, sharp and clear.
She forces a smile while her mind wanders far away,
Back to the steppes where the wolves don't have much to say.
Oh, Roni, the promised land is a desert of glass,
Counting your pennies just to let the winter pass.
Far from your kin, heart frozen by a wind so lean,
Just a shadow serving drinks in a city so mean.
The blues drips on your tray, bitter and cold,
Little girl from the East, with a story untold.
When the shutters come down, she heads back to her room,
A shoebox apartment where November shadows loom.
She spreads out her coins on the plastic cloth floor,
Every cent is a teardrop, a metallic shut door.
Life is so dear here, but the dream’s on its knees,
She closes her eyes to hear the home-country breeze.
Oh, Roni, Eldorado was just a cage made of rust,
You traded your peace for a handful of dust.
The pennies pile up, but the void’s still the same,
Alone in this exile, with no one to call your name.
The blues is your country, your only refuge in sight,
Little girl from the East, disappearing in the night.
Written by: Ghesquiere Steeve
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