I'm a farmer with a mandolin and a high tenor voice.
quote by Bill Monroe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Mandolin
Oh Mandolin, oh mandolin
Waiting in the dark
Centuries passed down upon
Your smooth Venetian skin
Memories oh memories
Lay stains upon your heart
When lovers dance into the trance
You weaved by candlelight
Oh I saw a sunrise like never before
As mandolin played I cried for more.
Oh Mandolin, oh mandolin
Waiting in the dark
Centuries passed down upon
Your smooth Venetian skin
Incessant sound, incessant sound
That stirs the young and pure
Incestuous I kiss my hand
And play the calling drum.
The lover cried into the silk
Many years ago
Your voice laid comfort down upon
His European skin.
Oh I saw a sunrise like never before
As mandolin played I cried for more.
Oh I saw a sunrise like never before
As mandolin played I cried for more.
Oh I saw a runrise likenever before
As mandolin played I cried for more
Oh Mandolin, oh mandolin
Waiting in the dark
Centuries passed down upon
Your smooth Venetian skin.
song performed by by Spandau Ballet
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Taxes On The Farmer Feeds Us All
(traditional, adapted by ry cooder)
(d) - (a) - (e)
(a) we worked through spring and winter, through (d) summer and through (a) fall
But the mortgage worked the hardest and the (e) steadiest of us all
It (a) worked on nights and sundays, it (d) worked each holiday
(e) settled down among us and it never went (a) away
The farmer comes to town with his wagon broken down
The farmer is the man who feeds us all
If you only look and see I know you will agree
That the farmer is the man who feeds us all
(a) the farmer is the man, the farmer is the man
He buys on his credit until (e) fall
Then they (a) take him by the hand
And they (d) lead him from his land
And the (e) merchant is the man who gets it (a) all
The farmer is the man, the farmer is the man
He lives on his credit until fall
With the interest rates so high
Its a wonder he dont die
But the taxes on the farmer feeds us all
Well, the banker says hes broke and the merchant stops and smoke
But they forget that its the farmer that feeds them all
It would put them to the test if the farmer took a rest
And theyd know that its the farmer that feeds them all
The farmer is the man, the farmer is the man
Lives on his credit until fall
Well, his pants are wearing thin
His condition, its a sin
cause the taxes on the farmer feeds us all
song performed by by Ry Cooder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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That song has the full extent of my mandolin abilities; I'm not a good mandolin player at all.
quote by John Fogerty
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Aspens
A sweet high treble threads its silvery song,
Voice of the restless aspen, fine and thin
It trills its pure soprano, light and long-
Like the vibretto of a mandolin.
poem by Emily Pauline Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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An Elderly Dog
An Elderly Dog
The sun is coming down hard the dog sleeps in the shadow
on the terrace. I sit indoors and try to play the mandolin.
Sweaty palms, no good. The dogs comes to the doorway
barks. I put the mandolin on a chair, dog goes back to sleep.
The winter had been long I had looked forward to summer,
but this was too much. We, the dog and I, used to go to
the beach, but dogs aren’t allowed there anymore and
I’m too fucking old. I pick up the mandolin smash it against
the living room wall, a picture of me in uniform falls down,
broken glass everywhere. “Now, see what you have done.”
I shout to the dog, but the old cur doesn’t batter an eyelid.
poem by Oskar Hansen
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Spanish Johnny (feat. Waylon Jennings)
(Paul Siebel)
Those other years, the dusty years
We drove the big hers through
I tried to forget the miles we rode
And Spanish Johnny too
He'd sit beside a water ditch when all this herd was in
And he'd never harm a child but sing to his mandolin
The old talk, the old ways, and the dealin' of our game
But Spanish Johnny never spoke, but sing a song of Spain
And his talk with men was vicious talk
When he was drunk on gin
Ah, but those were golden things he said to his mandolin
We had to stand, we tried to judge, we had to stop him then
For the hand so gentle to a child had killed so many men
He died a hard death long ago before the road come in
And the night before he swung he sung to his mandolin
Well, we carried him out in the mornin' sun
A man that done no good
And we lowered him down in the cold clay
Stuck in a cross of wood
And a letter we wrote to his kinfolk
To tell them where he'd been
And we shipped it out to Mexico, along with his mandolin
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spanish Johnny
(paul siebel)
Those other years, the dusty years
We drove the big hers through
I tried to forget the miles we rode
And spanish johnny too
Hed sit beside a water ditch when all this herd was in
And hed never harm a child but sing to his mandolin
The old talk, the old ways, and the dealin of our game
But spanish johnny never spoke, but sing a song of spain
And his talk with men was vicious talk
When he was drunk on gin
Ah, but those were golden things he said to his mandolin
We had to stand, we tried to judge, we had to stop him then
For the hand so gentle to a child had killed so many men
He died a hard death long ago before the road come in
And the night before he swung he sung to his mandolin
Well, we carried him out in the mornin sun
A man that done no good
And we lowered him down in the cold clay
Stuck in a cross of wood
And a letter we wrote to his kinfolk
To tell them where hed been
And we shipped it out to mexico, along with his mandolin
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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They would wake me up when I was sleeping, and say sing a song for our friends. I had a sweet voice, I had a nice little tenor voice. God knows what I sang, but my whole family would admire me.
quote by Dominic Chianese
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Some people say there was no jazz tenor before me. All I know is I just had a way of playing and I didn't think in terms of any other instrument but the tenor.
quote by Coleman Hawkins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Something So Feminine About A Mandolin
By: jimmy buffett, jane slagsvol
1975
It was late in the evenin, just a few of us pickin
But the lady she played so easy and fine
And the chords that she strummed were so tastefully clever
They planted this song in my mind
Chorus:
cause theres somethin so feminine about a mandolin
The way that they feel, the way that they ring
Just to see slender fingers, movin so quickly
Made this boy want to sing
And when I get older and I have a daughter
Ill teach her to sing and play her my songs
And Ill tell her some stories I can barely remember
And hope that she will sing along
And maybe one day shell take a fancy to pickin
cause when that bug bites you, you live with the sting
And if she could just strum a few simple measures
She could make some young man sing
cause theres somethin so feminine about a mandolin
Way that they feel, the way that they ring
And that evenin in a pasture somewhere near austin
That mandolin made me sing
Her mandolin made me sing
song performed by by Jimmy Buffett
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Ever So Tall Giant!
The farmer was busy ploughing,
With three fields left to do,
When a figure overpowering
Came suddenly in view...
The giant stepped across the gap
In seconds so it seemed,
The farmer thought he'd had a nap
And this whole thing was dreamed...
The farmer blinked yet stood his ground,
The giant's shadow loomed,
The giant's voice a booming sound...
The farmer thought, 'I'm doomed! '
'Don't be afraid, it's only me! '
The giant said amazed,
The farmer gulped quite suddenly,
For he was feeling dazed...
The giant smiled a lovely smile,
No bad thoughts on his mind,
The farmer stared up for a while,
His neck somewhat inclined...
'I'm from another planet, friend!
Just visiting, that's all...'
'Good God, will wonders never end?
How did you get so tall? '
'I'm only tall on planet Earth!
At home, I'm normal size!
I exercise for all I'm worth
And study so I'm wise...'
The farmer groaned, he'd hurt his neck!
'Your poor neck must feel numb!
I know I'm tall, but what the heck!
Wait till you meet my Mum! '
Denis Martindale, copyright, September 2012.
poem by Denis Martindale
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Gypsy Melody
Play me a gypsy melody
on a sweet mandolin.
Let it make me cry a bit
to fit the mood I'm in.
Gathered 'round the campfire
with the stars above.
Let the sparks from the flame
reach the one I love.
The fortune teller among you
take hold of my hand.
Tell me if you see for me
a golden wedding band?
If you don't it's okay.
I've been hurt before.
I'll cry along with the mandolin
that plays for a heart that's sore.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Every time you cut programs, you take away a person who has a vested interest in high taxes and you put him on the tax rolls and make him a taxpayer. A farmer on subsidies is part welfare bum, whereas a free-market farmer is a small businessman with a gun.
quote by Grover Norquist
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Miss Nickelodeon
(jay wise)
Kinda like an indian beatin on his mandolin
Lucky paul and his asian friend,
Smilin back from the place theyre in.
Heros mother hides in austin waitin for a loan
Preachers teachers boogie down in saigon,
Tryin to make it on their own.
Injun ladies with their cement hair,
Snub ulysses on the stair
I believe hes up there sellin kitchen wares,
Tryin to make it back to sweden.
Ah, kinda like an indian beatin on his mandolin
Lucky paul and his asian friend,
Smilin back from the place theyre in.
Glad to see you on the mend,
Oh, miss nickelodeon,
Guess you got the stuff I could not send,
Roll it over again.
Trip in from 43,
A magic boy, his dog and me.
On a run to eternity
Not carin what its costin.
Oh, kinda like an indian beatin on his mandolin
Lucky paul and his asian friend,
Smilin back from the place theyre in.
Oh, kinda like an indian beatin on his mandolin
Lucky paul and his asian friend,
Smilin back from the place theyre in.
Oh, kinda like an indian beatin on his mandolin
Lucky paul and his asian friend,
Smilin back from the place theyre in.
Oh, kinda like an indian beatin on his mandolin
Lucky paul and his asian friend ...
song performed by by Kinky Friedman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Farmer's Daughter
I do come from miles away,
Ain't got no place to stay.
Glad to help you plow your fields,
Farmer's daughter.
Might be just a couple of days,
Clean up, rest, and be on my way.
Thank you, madam, much obliged,
Farmer's daughter.
So long, got to leave your land.
Many thanks, it was might grand.
I do hope to see you again,
Farmer's Daughter.
Farmer's Daughter.
song performed by by Fleetwood Mac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Disconcerted Tenor
A tenor, all singers above
(This doesn't admit of a question),
Should keep himself quiet,
Attend to his diet,
And carefully nurse his digestion.
But when he is madly in love,
It's certain to tell on his singing -
You can't do chromatics
With proper emphatics
When anguish your bosom is wringing!
When distracted with worries in plenty,
And his pulse is a hundred and twenty,
And his fluttering bosom the slave of mistrust is,
A tenor can't do himself justice.
Now observe - (SINGS A HIGH NOTE) -
You see, I can't do myself justice!
I could sing, if my fervour were mock,
It's easy enough if you're acting,
But when one's emotion
Is born of devotion,
You mustn't be over-exacting.
One ought to be firm as a rock
To venture a shake in VIBRATO;
When fervour's expected,
Keep cool and collected,
Or never attempt AGITATO.
But, of course, when his tongue is of leather,
And his lips appear pasted together,
And his sensitive palate as dry as a crust is,
A tenor can't do himself justice.
Now observe - (SINGS A CADENCE) -
It's no use - I can't do myself justice!
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Farmer's Song
Well I hate to say the farmer
Was the last of a dying breed
Living off the land
And taking what he needs
Don't say much for the future
When a family can't survive
I'd hate to say the farmer
Was the last of his kind.
In the struggle for parity
Not one man's voice can sound
Cause the foundation
of the conglomerate
Is firmly in the ground.
Yeah, they want to feed the world
But for power and for greed
Then they'll cut off the supply
Until they get what they need.
Well I dreamed I saw a dust bowl
Where the farmers used to live
Earth was flying through the sky
It had nothing left to give
Tractors were burning
On the Whitehouse lawn
Just woke up one morning
And the farmers all were gone
I hate to say the farmer
Was the last of a dying breed
Living off the land
And taking what he needs.
Don't say much for the future
When a family can't survive.
I'd hate to say the farmer
Was the last of his kind.
Don't say much for the future
When a family can't survive.
I'd hate to say the farmer
Was the last of his kind.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Last Of His Kind
Well I hate to say the farmer
Was the last of a dying breed
Living off the land
And taking what he needs
Don't say much for the future
When a family can't survive
I'd hate to say the farmer
Was the last of his kind.
In the struggle for parity
Not one man's voice can sound
Cause the foundation
of the conglomerate
Is firmly in the ground.
Yeah, they want to feed the world
But for power and for greed
Then they'll cut off the supply
Until they get what they need.
Well I dreamed I saw a dust bowl
Where the farmers used to live
Earth was flying through the sky
It had nothing left to give
Tractors were burning
On the Whitehouse lawn
Just woke up one morning
And the farmers all were gone
I hate to say the farmer
Was the last of a dying breed
Living off the land
And taking what he needs.
Don't say much for the future
When a family can't survive.
I'd hate to say the farmer
Was the last of his kind.
Don't say much for the future
When a family can't survive.
I'd hate to say the farmer
Was the last of his kind.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A superb tenor voice, like a silver trumpet muffled in silk.
quote by Alec Guinness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Reuben & Cherise
Cherise was brushing her long hair gently down
It was the afternoon of carnival as she brushes it gently down
Rubin was strumming his painted mandolin
It was inlaid with a pretty face in jade played in the carnival parade
Cherise was dressing as Pirouette in white
When a fatal vision gripped her tight Cherise beware tonight
Rubin, Rubin tell me truly true
I feel afraid and I don't know why I do, Is there another girl for you?
If you could see my heart you would know it's true
There's none Cherise, except for you, except for you
I'd swear to it on my very soul, If I lie, say I fall down cold
When Rubin played on his painted mandolin
The breeze would pause to listen in before going on its way again
Masquerade began when nightfall finally woke
Like waves against the bandstand, dancers broke to the painted mandolin
Looking out to the crowd who is standing there
Sweet Ruby Claire at Rubin stared, at Rubin stared
She was dressed as Pirouette in red
And her hair hung gently down
The crowd pressed round, Ruby stood as though alone
Rubin's song took on a different tone and he played it just for her
The song he played was the carnival parade
Each note cut a thread of Cherise's fate it cut through like a blade
Rubin was playing his painted mandolin
When Ruby froze and turned to stone for the strings played all alone
The voice of Cherise from the face of the mandolin
Singing Rubin, Rubin tell me true for I have no one but you
If you could see my heart you would know it true
There's none Cherise, except for you, except for you
I'd swear to it on my very soul, If I lie, say I fall down cold
The truth of love an unsung song must tell
The course of love must follow blind without a look behind
Rubin walked the streets of New Orleans till dawn
Cherise so lightly in his arms and her hair hung gently down
song performed by by Grateful Dead
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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