When a musician hath forgotten his note, He makes as though a crumb stuck in his throat.
Related quotes
Words Get Stuck In My Throat
If I had a tiny microphone
Hidden in my heart
It would amplify my love for you
But the words get stuck in my throat
The words get stuck in my throat
If I had a little viewmaster
Stuck inside my brain
It would snap the pictures all of you.
But the words get stuck in my throat
The words get stuck in my throat
If I had a telegraph
Tapping in my brain
It would tap the morse code I love you.
But the words get stuck in my throat
The words get stuck in my throat
Hey, hey, hey
Whatd I say?
Everyday!
The words get stuck in my throat (repeating)
song performed by by Devo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Words Get Stuck In My Throat (live)
If i had a tiny microphone
Hidden in my heart
It would amplify my love for you
But the words get stuck in my throat
The words get stuck in my throat
If i had a little viewmaster
Stuck inside my brain
It would snap the pictures all of you.
But the words get stuck in my throat
The words get stuck in my throat
If i had a telegraph
Tapping in my brain
It would tap the morse code "i love you."
But the words get stuck in my throat
The words get stuck in my throat
Hey, hey, hey
What'd i say?
Everyday!
The words get stuck in my throat (repeating)
song performed by by Devo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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There was a musician from Crewe
Who took up the didgeridoo;
Though he strained at the throat
He could not get a note
No matter how hard that he blew.
(Written Oct 2012)
quote by by John Carter Brown
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Note for Me
You left me a piece of note
Many seasons ago
I moved away I forgot
It is stuck in my heart though!
When I open the window
It comes with the light
With the winds the words blow
Comes back in the dream of midnight
I have forgotten the words though!
It remains with me a musical note
The tunes of which still flow
I moved away I forgot
It is stuck in my heart though!
poem by Pradip Chattopadhyay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Perhaps you will eat a whole elephant and nothing gets stuck in your throat, and then you eat a fish and a bone gets stuck in your throat.
Well I'm a third-generation musician. My Grandfather's a musician and my father and mother were both musicians and so I'm a musician. It was just natural that I should be a musician 'cause I was born into the family.
quote by Sam Rivers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Goat Crossing The Moat
The Capote is afloat beside the goat
Crossing the moat to read the note
And keep the quote in its throat
A tote does not vote that is what you wrote
So back to the rote eating the oat and
Smash the mote hidden on the boat
The seas bloat so you devote a bank note
For the seed coat of a wild oat
& scare quote for your strep throat
As Joseph's coat dote the eight note.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Don't Make Fun Of Daddy's Voice
Long ago
When he was
Young and restless
Suddenly
Daddy say
The beckoning finger of fate
Don't make fun of Daddy's voice
Because he can't help it
When he was a teenage boy
Something got stuck in his throat
When you are
Young
You crave affection
And it can
Come
From the strangest direction
Don't make fun of Daddy's voice
Because he can't help it
When he was a teenage boy
Something got stuck in his throat
Don't make fun of Daddy's voice
Because he can't help it
When he was a teenage boy
Something got stuck in his throat
song performed by by Morrissey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I think my playing has been orchestral throughout the years, and this is another way of expressing that. But I primarily see it as the ultimate accomplishment of a musician. Composing makes me feel like I've finally gotten all the way up the ladder as a musician.
quote by Tony Williams
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mothers Day2007
She hath my heart, she is my mum.
She hath my heart, she is my only, she is my one.
She hath my heart, though rough winds may blow.
She hath my heart, still her love will flow, her love will always show.
She hath my heart, I thank my lucky stars.
She hath my heart and i have hers.
She hath my heart, i long for her presence.
She hath my heart, her name is essence.
She hath my heart and forever she will.
Lifetimes will come and go, i will love her still
She hath my heart, this fact i cant conceal
Our bond is like sentiment you just cant kill
She hath my heart in times of sorrow.
She hath my heart, yesterday, today and tomorrow.
She hath my heart, my voice will sing.
She hath my heart, she makes the bell in my heart ring.
She hath my heart, in times of trouble.
She wont stumble no i will not let her crumble.
She hath my heart in each and every way
And my love for her grows with each day
She hath my heart for we were once one.
She hath my heart, the heart of the boy inside the man
I hath her heart, the heart we once shared.
Though separated in body the hearts still paired.
She hath my heart i need her near.
She hath my heart my mama dear
She hath my heart and she already knows
In a world of thorny bushes she stands out like rose
She hath my heart for she is always by my side
When the sun sets she is my light, she is my guide.
poem by Soul Child
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bad Tattoo
I don't know how you did it but you.
let yourself in, yeah.
I don't know how you do it but you,
get under my skin, yeah.
Everything you do
makes me shake, makes me rattle makes me roll right over
be careful what you're wishing for
you might get more than you bargained for
I'm stuck on you
like a bad tattoo
I'm stuck on you
like a bad tattoo
I've heard an awful lot about you.
You made me real mad.
I've heard an awful lot about you.
I hope its all true yeah.
Everything you do makes me shake,
makes me rattle, makes me roll right over
(Ooh) Be careful what you're lookin' for.
You might get more than you bargained for.
I'm suck on you, like a bad tattoo yeah.
I'm stuck on you, like a bad tattoo yeah.
Make me black and blue
I had never wanted you.
Now be careful what you're wishing for
You might get more than you bargained for
I'm stuck on you, like a bad tattoo, yeah.
I'm stuck on you, like a bad tattoo yeah.
I'm stuck on you, like a bad tattoo, yeah.
I'm stuck on you, like a bad tattoo, yeah.
song performed by by Warrant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Music is emotional, and you may catch a musician in a very unemotional mood or you may not be in the same frame of mind as the musician. So a critic will often say a musician is slipping.
quote by Nat King Cole
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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The Musician
The piano is the start,
Of the journey of a note.
Where the music comes from,
Is like the journey
The blind man has to take,
When walking on the beach,
And suddenly he can see.
When the musician
Makes a song,
He is overjoyed,
Like the painter and the canvas,
Like the blind man and the sea
poem by Ratina Sauri
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Victor Should Have Been A Jazz Musician
I went to a concert, to see nina, simone,
The concert was over, there was still a band playing, the rap up,
The booguh played with his hands, I close my eyes, and look at him,
Victor should have been a jazz musician,
I said to myself, victor should have been a jazz musician,
I looked at his face, and I saw victor, looked at his smile, and I saw victor,
I looked at his hair, and thought,
Victor should have been a jazz musician,
Victor should have been a jazz musician,
And the people dancing on the floor, dancing on the floor, were so high,
You should have seen victor smile, you should have seen victor smile,
As they danced all the while all around on the floor, and he laughed,
Victor should have been a jazz musician,
Oh, victor should have been a jazz musician,
He was playing so nice, the jazz musician,
Ah, ah,
Hes living in a fast beat, in a city thats hot,
Telling all the latinos and puerto ricans, victor seems happy, but he doesnt even know himself, hes gotta look inside to know his first love,
Victor was a jazz musician, he was playing so nice, victor was a jazz musician, (? ) victor was a jazz musician,
Victor loves his music, he loves his music, somewhere, he plays his music, somewhere,
Victor is a jazz musician,
Jazz.
song performed by by Grace Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Sweet Pastoral
Good Muse, rock me asleep
With some sweet harmony:
The weary eye is not to keep
Thy wary company.
Sweet Love, begone awhile,
Thou knowest my heaviness:
Beauty is born but to beguile
My heart of happiness.
See how my little flock,
That loved to feed on high,
Do headlong tumble down the rock,
And in the valley die.
The bushes and the trees
That were so fresh and green,
Do all their dainty colour leese,
And not a leaf is seen.
The blackbird and the thrush,
That made the woods to ring,
With all the rest, are now at hush,
And not a note they sing.
Sweet Philomel, the bird
That hath the heavenly throat,
Doth now alas! not once afford
Recording of a note.
The flowers have had a frost,
Each herb hath lost her savour;
And Phyllida the fair hath lost
The comfort of her favour.
Now all these careful sights
So kill me in conceit,
That how to hope upon delights
It is but mere deceit.
And therefore, my sweet Muse,
Thou know'st what help is best;
Do now thy heavenly cunning use
To set my heart at rest;
And in a dream bewray
What fate shall be my friend;
Whether my life shall still decay,
Or when my sorrow end.
poem by Nicholas Breton
Submitted by anonym
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Piccadilly
Beautiful, tragical faces—
Ye that were whole, and are so sunken;
And, O ye vile, ye that might have been loved,
That are so sodden and drunken,
Who hath forgotten you?
O wistful, fragile faces, few out of many!
The crass, the coarse, the brazen,
God knows I cannot pity them, perhaps, as I should do;
But oh, ye delicate, wistful faces,
Who hath forgotten you?
poem by Ezra Pound
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Robert Crumb is an influence on how I draw, but not on the subject matter I take or my approach. One thing I do like about Crumb is that he's chronicled his age, his times, and I think that is what artists should do.
First Encounter - Kitaro
Kitaro
more mystical than him
his music
Kitaro just another
musician working
for survival
Kitaro just another
musician who enlightens us
with his specialities
Several years back Kitaro came to give a concert at the Genting Highlands. He came across as just another musician, working for his survival. A lot of hypes have been written about the mystic way of life he lives but that did not come across to me. Yes, his hair was long but what I perceived was a man working for his survival. Tagging along was his musician wife who worked in the same band as Kitaro.
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Musician jokes are a kind of joke that usually have to do with how much money someone makes. Musicians are always starving, so they're really mean to each other about who makes what.
quote by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Miracle for Breakfast
At six o'clock we were waiting for coffee,
waiting for coffee and the charitable crumb
that was going to be served from a certain balcony
--like kings of old, or like a miracle.
It was still dark. One foot of the sun
steadied itself on a long ripple in the river.
The first ferry of the day had just crossed the river.
It was so cold we hoped that the coffee
would be very hot, seeing that the sun
was not going to warm us; and that the crumb
would be a loaf each, buttered, by a miracle.
At seven a man stepped out on the balcony.
He stood for a minute alone on the balcony
looking over our heads toward the river.
A servant handed him the makings of a miracle,
consisting of one lone cup of coffee
and one roll, which he proceeded to crumb,
his head, so to speak, in the clouds--along with the sun.
Was the man crazy? What under the sun
was he trying to do, up there on his balcony!
Each man received one rather hard crumb,
which some flicked scornfully into the river,
and, in a cup, one drop of the coffee.
Some of us stood around, waiting for the miracle.
I can tell what I saw next; it was not a miracle.
A beautiful villa stood in the sun
and from its doors came the smell of hot coffee.
In front, a baroque white plaster balcony
added by birds, who nest along the river,
--I saw it with one eye close to the crumb--
and galleries and marble chambers. My crumb
my mansion, made for me by a miracle,
through ages, by insects, birds, and the river
working the stone. Every day, in the sun,
at breakfast time I sit on my balcony
with my feet up, and drink gallons of coffee.
We licked up the crumb and swallowed the coffee.
A window across the river caught the sun
as if the miracle were working, on the wrong balcony.
poem by Elizabeth Bishop
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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