I do very few standards. Hardly any. Other people's tunes that I do are usually obscure tunes, for the most part, although I do a couple of Duke Ellington tunes that are well known.
quote by Mose Allison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Passion
The keys to notes play tunes of loss,
Tunes of longing, tunes of blues.
'Til metal enshrouding the air does trump with
Tunes of longing, tunes of blues.
Wood and string provide a base for
Tunes of longing, tunes of blues.
Encased in brass belong the bones of
Tunes of longing, tunes of blues.
Emblems and traps do kick and swear by
Tunes of longing, tunes of blues.
Until laughter disturbs this sweet eden,
My tortured soul lies bare.
I leave my emotions encapsulated
In sonic vibrations of air.
The tunes of longing and tunes of blues
Are played until the eve
When players no longer respect their tears
And thus, themselves, deceive.
poem by Liam O'Brien
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Instant Tunes
Instant tunes only just been made
Instant songs never to be played
Instant tunes hanging out to dry
Let me try to introduce you to
Instant tunes
Instant tunes
Instant tunes
Instant tunes
Ever and ever will they give us pleasure
Their instant, still instant
Like mother used to make it -- oh!
Instant tunes give instant cash
Make me want to start a backlash
Let me have the recipe
And make me some lovely, lovely
Instant tunes
Instant tunes
Instant tunes
Instant tunes
Ever and ever will they give us pleasure
Their instant, still instant
Like mother used to make it -- oh!
Ever and ever will they give us pleasure
Their instant, still instant
Like mother used to make it -- oh!
Instant tunes give instant cash
Make me want to start a backlash
Let me have the recipe
And make me some lovely, lovely
Instant tunes
Instant tunes
Instant tunes
Instant tunes
song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm not really a country singer, although I did make a couple albums and love its simple, straight-from-the-heart approach, but I have always sung a lot of jazz, show tunes, pop tunes, gospel and blues.
quote by Dinah Shore
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The Tin-Whistle Player
'Tis long since, long since, since I heard
A tin-whistle played,
And heard the tunes, the ha'penny tunes
That nobody made!
The tunes that were before Cendfind
And Cir went Ireland's rounds
That were before the surety
That strings have given sounds!
And now is standing in the mist,
And jigging backward there,
Shrilling with fingers and with breath,
A tin-whistle player!
He has hare's eyes, a long face rimmed
Around with badger-grey;
Aimless, like cries of mountain birds
The tunes he has to play
The tunes that are for stretches bare,
And men whose lives are lone
And I had seen that face of his
Sculptured on cross of stone,
That long face, in a place of graves
With nettles overgrown.
poem by Padraic Colum
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Yeah I do and I don't mind, in fact that is one of the real encouraging things about this whole career of mine is that there are tunes I wrote almost thirty years ago that I will still play in front of an audience and I still like the old tunes.
quote by Leo Kottke
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Most people remember me for a couple of tunes.
The House That Cee Built
Introducing ladies and gentlemen
the young man that's had over thirty-five soul classics
Among these classics are tunes that will never die
Tunes like --
"FUNKY!" "I get +Raw+"
"Set It Off" "Ain't No Half-Steppin'"
"I'll Take You There"
"Yo
song performed by by Big Daddy Kane from It's a Big Daddy Thing
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ol' Tunes
YOU kin talk about yer anthems
An' yer arias an' sich,
An' yer modern choir-singin'
That you think so awful rich;
But you orter heerd us youngsters
In the times now far away,
A-singin' o' the ol' tunes
In the ol'-fashioned way.
There was some of us sung treble
An' a few of us growled bass,
An' the tide o' song flowed smoothly
With its 'comp'niment o' grace;
There was spirit in that music,
An' a kind o' solemn sway,
A-singin' o' the ol' tunes
In the ol'-fashioned way.
I remember oft o' standin'
In my homespun pantaloons—
On my face the bronze an' freckles
O' the suns o' youthful Junes—
Thinkin' that no mortal minstrel
Ever chanted sich a lay
As the ol' tunes we was singin'
In the ol'-fashioned way.
The boys 'ud always lead ,as,
An' the girls 'ud all chime in,
Till the sweetness o' the singin'
Robbed the list'nin' soul o' sin;
An' I used to tell the parson
'Twas as good to sing as pray,
When the people sung the ol' tunes
In the ol'-fashioned way.
How I long ag'in to hear 'em
Pourin' forth from soul to soul,
With the treble high an' meller,
An' the bass's mighty roll;
But the times is very diff'rent,
An' the music heerd to-day
Ain't the singin' o' the ol' tunes
In the ol'-fashioned way.
Little screechin' by a woman,
Little squawkin' by a man,
Then the organ's twiddle-twaddle,
Jest the empty space to span, —
An' ef you should even think it,
'T isn't proper fur to say
That you want to hear the ol' tunes
In the ol'-fashioned way.
But I think that some bright mornin',
When the toils of life air o'er,
An' the sun o' heaven arisin'
Glads with light the happy shore,
I shall hear the angel chorus,
In the realms of endless day,
A-singin' o' the ol' tunes
In the ol'-fashioned way.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Travails Of Survival
his skin exudes
the native perfumes
his heart is filled with
native tunes
from village to
town to metro
did he migrate
always drawing the
scents and tunes
for his sustenance
stranger he is in the metro
breathes his lungful once
amidst the familiar environs
moving under the known skyscape
a nowhere man in the metro
he is himself back at the village
survival calls him
survival displaces him
this nowhere man is
found everywhere
he goes about spraying
the native perfumes
he moves about
his heart humming the tunes...
15jun2010
14.47hrs
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Rein Held Race The Winds Upon Wild Spirited Horses
songs we are born with may be sung from sunrise to sunset
these tunes are our tunes life tunes strung to our souls journey
we must harmonize until the end the living the love the journey
our dreams run fly in the wind as bird songs whistle symphonies
synchronize moments melting from birth steps to chariot races
time is my rein held race the winds upon wild spirited horses
thunder wild horses racing through glorious mountain passes
dawn lit my way noon sun browned my back sunset red kisses
life a chariot race I raced death laughing cheating hairpin turns
death old friend let us race time again together in new universes
Dedicated to Pranab K. Chakraborty.
poem by Terence George Craddock
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Love Upon a Star
The bars are at its peak, pinnacle, throne-
My head perpendicular to my body,
slouching with this rugged chair-
Shuffle tune and tunes and-
Nonsense, I'm just thinking of you
I suppose these 'tunes' are-
well, there to distract myself from your beauty,
But by each note that has me humming,
I gaze past the frosty window,
Looking at your soul through a lyric-
With each beat of my heart,
that keeps a tempo with a mellow kick drum,
I can only imagine what you are doing in the distance-
Or what I can tell you with a lyric or my eyes,
For you are a star,
And I will gaze upon your elegance with this failure of a distraction-
Only to smile and wonder...
poem by Daniel Thomason
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Singing of the grounds
The moss being turned into a green tide
Making all things look so lost and sad
The sun's heart's open got nothing to hide
Though the piano rains in adagio fled
The keys unlocked slowly turn into a sound
Of a memory human for too long dead
Humus outpours tunes and forgotten rhymes
Earthquakes chase the rainbows
Earthquakes capture sunbeams
Waters' wicked undertows
Where nothing ever dreams
In tunes outplayed closing down all sounds
In silence stoned death singing of the grounds
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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Jazz
Jazz
See the tunes
on their faces,
masques from
cabinets of races.
Dizzy-ness
and Ellington
in penetrating
paces.
The Contrabass,
the stiff parade
and lack of sex,
till Misses Sachs
makes moments smile.
A Tambu for a while
which interlaces
-tranquil such chill-
and moods of inspiration;
it's all..... improvisation!
Madrason 16-07-2012
poem by Madrason writer
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Peter Gunn's Gun
by Michael Leonard, Bobby Weinstein & Jon Stroll
Throw a penny from the window, watch an old man play a song
On a twenty-dollar violin he bought before the war,
Though he screeches and he scratches and the notes are always wrong,
But he plays like he's in concert on the street outside my door.
Tunes to suit your fancy,
Are there any requests?
I'll play them for a penny,
(Play them penny music, play them for a penny)
And not a penny less.
He's the local virtuoso, it's his only way of life,
Plays ninety-seven overtures and goes home to his wife,
In the quiet of the evening while his frozen fingers bleed,
He counts pennies on a blanket to supply his meager need.
Tunes to suit your fancy,
Are there any requests?
I'll play them for a penny,
(Play them penny music, play them for a penny)
And not a penny less.
When there's frost upon the pumpkin in the weakness of the sun,
People stand there in the cold until his symphony is done,
In the early gray of morning, he's sure to come around,
You can hear him through the window when the pennies hit the ground.
Tunes to suit your fancy,
Are there any requests?
I'll play them for a penny,
(Play them penny music, play them for a penny)
And not a penny less.
They're playing penny music,
Playing penny music,
They're playing penny music,
Playing penny music,
Playing penny music.
fade out...
song performed by by Monkees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tweety Birds
Two tweety birds,
Hangout on a branch.
Two tweety birds,
Waiting for their lunch.
Their time is spent
Tweeting, preening in a bunch.
A ritual, a noise event.
Birds gather not in a 'bunch',
They stay together in a 'flock'.
I wrote 'bunch'
to rhyme with lunch.
So there, you have it in a block!
Birds of a feather flock together,
Sing melodious tunes
Birds of a feather in any weather,
Tweet in timely tunes.
Same Old Tunes
I sat at my piano tinkering with the keys
and the same old tunes came back to me.
Melodies I had written long ago
that seem to haunt my soul.
It was the rhythm of my life
as the scales moved up and down.
After years of writing ever-haunting melodies
like my life, they drifted away from me.
The comparisons were striking
with the events of life’s ups and downs
and for a few minutes,
I found myself trying to capture
what once had been.
There were no lyrics in my head
to fit to a happy tune.
Only the black and white keys
that lay beneath my fingertips,
playing out the same old tunes
I had written in life and song
all those distant years ago.
13 November 2009
poem by David Harris
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If you try to do that in pop music - to play only rare show tunes, for example - people don't come.
quote by Bobby Short
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The American public tunes in every night hoping to see two people screwing. Obviously, we can't give them that but let's always keep it in mind.
quote by Barry Diller
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bamboo Tunes and Cat Eyed Girl
In the murmuring evenings,
Cat eyed girl, worn ear-rings,
Stands by bamboo cluster,
Putting down pots of water.
Gilded bamboos sing and sway,
And the tired path becomes gay.
Bamboo hearts throb ever;
Unnamed tunes cease never.
Her bamboo throes resounded
In the gloomy wind unbounded.
Melodies of earth does shower
On her soul that does hover.
Finger tip of the wind brings
Sweet tunes from bamboo strings.
Music enters her inner grove,
Where the forlorn dreams rove.
Cuddled bamboos swing and say
What the lovers failed to say.
Never dying natural music
So keeps her hopes rhythmic.
poem by Fabiyas M V
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New Words
new words are eggs
in my bossom, the warmest
and coziest part of my body
till they hatch to sing the
diverse and haunting tunes
i create for them that tiptoe
over the four corners of mind
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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