You don't write a psalm.

Church songbooks are also common in Roman Urdū.

But what if they were poems and psalms?

The hymns of praise of one man became the curses of others.

Mommy says we can stay up till midnight and sing Christmas carols.

The songs of Fito Paéz, another popular artist, rise through the air, accompanied by the necessary melancholy intoned by the crowds.