But I know just what it feels like to have a voice in the back of my head, like a face that I hold inside, face that awakes when I close my eyes, face that watches everytime I lie, face that laughs everytime I fall. (It watches EVERYTHING) ... But the face inside is hearing me, right beneath my skin.
I liked old time music but what i meant by that was the period from the 1930s through the 60s, nothing before and little after. Performers like fats waller, Sinatra, billie holiday, louis armstrong, rosemary clooney, ella, sammy Davis Jr, dean martin... If the lyrics weren't stupid. Words were important.
She once said her songs were "mostly about myths, spirits, that kind of thing. Not fairies, stronger than that." Not fairies. Stronger than that: there's a fine phrase to bear in mind. Her lyrics are about the things that drive, or repulse, or empower the human spirit. Not escapism, in fact, but its exact opposite.
Rock & roll is so great, people should start dying for it. You don't understand. The music gave you back your beat so you could dream...The people just have to die for the music. People are dying for everything else, so why not for music? Die for it. Isn't it pretty? Wouldn't you die for something pretty?
We all have our horrors and our demons to fight.But how can I win, when I'm paralyzed?They crawl up on my bed, wrap their fingers around my throat.Is this what I get for the choices that I've made?God forgive me, for all my sins. God forgive me, for everything.God forgive me, for all my sins. God forgive me, God forgive me.
All we shared was a mattress, and a lie, and an addressBaby I don't need you, well baby I don't need youOnce occupied by a goddess, now it's a room full of boxesShe said, "it's time to leave you" but baby I don't need you! In a perfect world... her face would not existIn a perfect world... a broken heart is fixed
Music is the secret language that effortlessly connects our bodies, our minds, and our souls. I’m addicted to the lyrics— they speak to me in a way only he and I will understand. So, until it’s safe to speak my mind, I’ll speak to him through lyrics. I’m addicted to him. He’s a song I never want to end.
But when ye come, and all the flowers are dying,If I am dead, as dead I well may be,You'll come and find the place where I am lying,And kneel and say Ave there for me,And I shall hear, though soft you tread above me,And all my grave will warmer, sweeter be,For you will bend and tell me that you love me,And I shall sleep in peace until you come to me
Goodbye my friend, goodbye my love, you're in my heartIt was preordained that we should part,and be united by and by, united by and by.Goodbye no handshake to endure.Now there's nothing.It was written in bloodIt was written in bloodIt was written in bloodOh god, written in bloodIt was written in bloodIt was written in bloodOh my god, it was written in blood
I once had a dreams of becoming a beautiful poet, but upon an unfortunate series of events some of those dreams dashed and divided like a million stars in the night sky that I wished on over and over again, sparkling and broken.But I didn't really mind, because I knew that it takes getting everything you ever wanted, and then losing it to know what true freedom is.
They can take tomorrow and the plans we made They can take the music that we'll never play All the broken dreams, take everything Just take it away but they can never have yesterday They can take the future that we'll never know They can take the places that we said we would go All the broken dreams, take everything Just take it away but they can never have yesterday
I heard the voice of that bird, son of Polypas, whose piercing outcryand whose arrival announces to men the season when fieldsare plowed, and the voice of her broke the heart that darkens within me,since other men posess my flourishing acres now,and not for me are the mules dragging the plow through the grainland,since I have given my heart to the restless seafarer's life.
Then I heard your voice as clear as day, And you told me I should concentrate, It was all so strange, And so surreal, That a ghost should be so practical. Only if for a night And the only solution was to stand and fight, And my body was bruised and I was set alight, But you came over me like some holy rite, And although I was burning, You're the only light Only if for a night
Autumn leaves under frozen soles,Hungry hands turning soft and old,My hero cried as we stood out their in the cold,Like these autumn leaves I don't have nothing to holdAutumn leaves how faded now,that smile that i've lost, well i've found some how,Because you still live on in my fathers eyes,These autumn leaves, oh these autumn leaves, oh these autumn leaves are yours tonight.
I salute to you Commanderand I sneeze'Cause I have Nowan AllergyTo your policies it seemsWhere have we gone wrong America?Mr. Lincoln we can't seemto find you anywhere out of the millionsFrom the desertsTo the mountainsOver prairiesTo the shoresIs this just the Madness of King GeorgeYo GeorgeIs this just the Madness of King GeorgeYo GeorgeWell you have the whole Nationon all fours.
