When I finally put my guitar in the case the last time, I want to be remembered just as a singer, not as a country singer or pops singer - just a singer.
quote by Eddy Arnold
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Related quotes
Pop Singer
Never wanted to be no pop singer,
Never wanted to write no pop songs.
Never had no weird hair to get my songs over.
Never wanted to hang out after the show.
Pop singer (writing) of pop songs.
Never wanted to have my picture taken.
Now, who would want to look into these eyes?
Just want to make it real - good, bad or indifferent.
Thats the way that I live and thats the way that Ill die (as a)
Pop singer (of) pop songs.
Pop singer, writing of pop song.
Never wanted to be no pop singer,
Never want to write no pop songs.
Never wanted to have a manager over for dinner.
Never wanted to hang out after the show.
Pop singer, writing pop songs.
Never wanted to be no pop singer, of pop songs.
A pop singer.
Never wanted to write no pop songs.
song performed by by John Mellencamp
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Nightingale
(mccafferty, sweet, charlton, agnew)
1975 nazareth(dunfermline)ltd.
Sings a sad song for lonely women
Sings about women to lonely men
Sings a peace song to a soldier
Sings about loneliness to a friend
Shes a song, song singer
Let her music touch your heart
Shes a song singer from her heart
Sings a melody to haunt you
And some words to make you cry
If youre sad shell make you happy
When youre down shell take you high
Shes a song, song singer
Let her music touch your heart
Shes a song singer from her heart
Shes a song, song singer
Let her music touch your heart
Shes a song singer from her heart
Shes a song, song singer
Let her music touch your heart
Shes a song singer from her heart
song performed by by Nazareth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Am Your Singer
You are my love, you are my song, liger on,
You are my song, I am your singer.
You are my one, you are my own melody,
You are my song, I am your singer.
Someday when were singing
We will fly away, going winging.
Sing, singing my love song to you.
My song is sung,
When day is done harmonies willinger on,
I am your singer,
I am your singer,
Singing my love song to you.
song performed by by Paul McCartney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In My Defence
In my defence what is there to say
All the mistakes we made must be faced today
It's not easy now knowing where to start
While the world we love tears itself apart
I'm just a singer with a song
How can I try to right the wrong
For just a singer with a melody
I'm caught in between
With a fading dream
In my defence what is there to say
We destroy the love - it's our way
We never listen enough never face the truth
Then like a passing song
Love is here and then it's gone
I'm just a singer with a song
How can I try to right the wrong
For just a singer with a melody
I'm caught in between
With a fading dream
I'm just a singer with a song
How can I try to right the wrong
I'm just a singer with a melody
I'm caught in between with a fading dream
Caught in between with a fading dream
Caught in between with a fading dream
Oh what on earth
Oh what on earth
How do I try
Do we live or die
Oh help me God
Please help me
song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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O Singer of the epic war history
O Singer of the epic war history,
O Singer of life, of liberation hoary,
Of brazen battlefields, long desolate,
O Singer of Gita's ageless glory.
Outlived hast the song thine endless story,
Though war heroes survive still in state,
Frustrated of fate but scarce sorry,
O Singer of the epic war history.
Yudhishthir's dharma, Arjun's archery,
Bheeshma's oath, Bhima's bravery,
Scarce confined remain to Pearly Gate,
And sung are with Gita's ageless glory.
And ye O bard, two roles in one carry:
Of poet laureate and progenitor great,
O ye born in a river ferry,
O Singer of the epic war history
Ye sang thine epic in such swell flurry,
Ganesha, if not quite inadequate,
Lost in thought, felt somewhat weary,
O Singer of ancient ageless glory,
Not mine ‘lone, any pen-pusher's worry
‘Tis to try even to translate,
O Singer of the epic war history,
O Singer of ancient ageless glory.
_______________________________________ __
This is a Villanelle a bit way out. The tercet,
that normally becomes a quatrain only in the last
stanza, is here so in all. Also, the first and the third
lines of the first stanza are repeated with some
modifications.
_____________________________________________ ______
- Villanelle | 02.10.11 |
poem by Aniruddha Pathak
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I think every singer should be able to jump in for a singer who has been sick, for instance, and learn an opera in two days. I know people who can do it.
quote by Bryn Terfel
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So much relies on the singer I thought the best way to avoid that problem was to become the singer!
quote by Ben Jackson
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My mother is a singer, still performs today; she's a jazz singer.
quote by Jan Hammer
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I was more of a light opera singer, not really much of a lounge singer.
quote by Melinda Clarke
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When I lost the use of my hi-hat and bass drum legs, I became basically a singer. I was a drummer who did a bit of singing, and then I became a singer who did a bit of percussion.
quote by Robert Wyatt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Song: The Cries of Today’s Children
I hear the cries of children,
Of children of the world; I Singer
The unwanted and unlucky,
The orphans and of streets!
I hear the cries of children,
Of children who want love;
The illiterate, sick, handicapped; II Singer
Poor, without any sheets!
I hear the cries of children,
Of children that must work; I Singer
To earn while young for family,
Have no place, time to play!
I hear the cries of children,
Of children war-ravaged;
Who know not what is joy in life, II Singer
Living in squalor, strife!
Let’s make this world for children,
A better place to live; I&II Singers together
With encouragement, dignity, * 2 times
And all love, we can give.
(
poem by John Celes
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Artie is a singer, and I'm a writer and player and a singer. We didn't work together on a creative level and prepare the songs. I did that.
quote by Paul Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Fire That Filled My Heart of Old
The fire that filled my heart of old
Gave luster while it burned;
Now only ashes gray and cold
Are in its silence urned.
Ah! better was the furious flame,
The splendor with the smart;
I never cared for the singer's fame
But, oh! for the singer's heart
Once more--
The burning fulgent heart!
No love, no hate, no hope, no fear,
No anguish and no mirth;
Thus life extends from year to year,
A flat of sullen dearth.
Ah! life's blood creepeth cold and tame,
Life's thought plays no new part;
I never cared for the singer's fame,
But, oh! for the singer's heart
Once more--
The bleeding passionate heart!
poem by James Thomson
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My Wife Treats Was Like My Mother
Mother
Did you know how much you look great
On those dress of pink.
I know mother
Your dreams was to become a country singer
But, did you know mother
That, you are my favourite singer.
You look so gorgeous
When you are feeding your sons.
And you look so angel
When you prepare meals for me.
OH! Mother
I will remember you even if I died of remembering.
poem by Auty Paul Jason
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I Want To Be The One Who Yah Yahs
I don't want to be that singer,
Of a long song gone.
Or be the one defeated,
By two unmoving feet.
I don't want to feel them stuck as if cemented,
With a sitting to waste time away.
I don't want to be that singer,
Of a long song gone.
Not any time of any day.
I don't want to be that singer,
Of a long song gone.
I...
Want my happy yah yahs.
I want that in my voice and strong.
I want my yah yahs there and a part...
Of my happiness all day long.
I don't want to be that singer,
Of those blues that sap.
I don't want to be the one that sits,
In a rocking chair to reminisce like that!
I...
Want to be the one who yah yahs.
I want to turn my yah yahs into art!
I want to hear my yah yahs rise,
To echo all over the place.
I don't want to be that singer,
Of a long song gone.
I...
Want my happy yah yahs.
I want that in my voice and strong.
I want my yah yahs there and a part...
Of my happiness all day long.
I want my yah yahs to never stop,
Drop to fizz or plop!
I don't want to be the one to sing,
About a dues I've paid.
With a blues with me that stays.
I...
Want to be the one who yah yahs.
I want to turn my yah yahs into art!
I'm going to yah yah until someone decides I disturb.
And they threaten to call the cops.
And when those cops arrive they will know,
The yah yahs I've got will not be stopped.
Since I'll shout my yah yahs from the top of roofs.
These yah yahs I've got come from the bottom of my heart!
There I discover my truth.
Dedicated:
In remembrance to Ernie K. Doe,
That great New Orleans singer and composer.
I will always remember when I first heard his song,
'Mother-In-Law'. To this very day...that song is 'hot'!
'I'm sittin' in la la,
Waitin' for my yah yah...
Uh huh,
Uh huh.
I said I'm sittin' in la la,
Waitin' for my yah yah...
Uh huh,
Uh huh.'
~Mr. Ernie K. Doe~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Theocritus - A Villanelle
O singer of Persephone!
In the dim meadows desolate
Dost thou remember Sicily?
Still through the ivy flits the bee
Where Amaryllis lies in state;
O Singer of Persephone!
Simaetha calls on Hecate
And hears the wild dogs at the gate;
Dost thou remember Sicily?
Still by the light and laughing sea
Poor Polypheme bemoans his fate;
O Singer of Persephone!
And still in boyish rivalry
Young Daphnis challenges his mate;
Dost thou remember Sicily?
Slim Lacon keeps a goat for thee,
For thee the jocund shepherds wait;
O Singer of Persephone!
Dost thou remember Sicily?
poem by Oscar Wilde
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A Villanelle
O singer of Persephone!
In the dim meadows desolate
Dost thou remember Sicily?
Still through the ivy flits the bee
Where Amaryllis lies in state;
O Singer of Persephone!
Simaetha calls on Hecate
And hears the wild dogs at the gate;
Dost thou remember Sicily?
Still by the light and laughing sea
Poor Polypheme bemoans his fate;
O Singer of Persephone!
And still in boyish rivalry
Young Daphnis challenges his mate;
Dost thou remember Sicily?
Slim Lacon keeps a goat for thee,
For thee the jocund shepherds wait;
O Singer of Persephone!
Dost thou remember Sicily?
poem by Oscar Wilde
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Theocritus
O SINGER of Persephone!
In the dim meadows desolate
Dost thou remember Sicily?
Still through the ivy flits the bee
Where Amaryllis lies in state;
O Singer of Persephone!
Simætha calls on Hecate
And hears the wild dogs at the gate;
Dost thou remember Sicily?
Still by the light and laughing sea
Poor Polypheme bemoans his fate:
O Singer of Persephone!
And still in boyish rivalry
Young Daphnis challenges his mate:
Dost thou remember Sicily?
Slim Lacon keeps a goat for thee,
For thee the jocund shepherds wait,
O Singer of Persephone!
Dost thou remember Sicily?
poem by Oscar Wilde
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The business today is completely different and it's very producer driven, so that a songwriter needs to have producing chops, be a singer/songwriter, or find a singer to develop.
quote by Cynthia Weil
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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That's the thing that we said about the horn before: it's a focus issue. It's like a singer versus a drummer. If a drummer's playing a drum beat, and a singer starts singing, what do you think the audience is going to do?
quote by Charlie Hunter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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