I'm not really allowed to talk about the Dead though. I think when we are at our best, we definitely do things that the Dead or no other band could do. We explore things and take things to the extreme.
quote by Mike Gordon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
You draw beautifully with your pencil
You draw beautifully with your pencil,
sketches of almost any flower and plant,
things that are alive and some things that are dead
even a woman giving birth
on the beach.
You draw beautifully with your pencil
on a table are slices of bread
with a hungry dog on the other side;
things that are alive and some things that are dead,
there are children that are wasting away from starvation
and a woman’s hand with a wedding band.
You draw beautifully with your pencil,
a sounding level going down a well
being held by a strong male hand.
Things that are alive and some things that are dead,
you sketch and sometimes it’s any thing valuable;
even people in love on a tropical island
and you draw beautifully with your pencil
things that are alive and some things that are dead.
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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i Still Have Time
for things we like to do
we just do them and then for things we do not like doing
we always say, ' i still have time'
and time has no mercy for without us it goes
and then gone
and for all the things we have not done
we still say, ' i still have time'
and then there is this sunset that fades too quickly
orange to black, and then the world is too dark and silent and cold
for all the things that we have not done
time is dead and we have not done
the things that we should have done
time is too short for those that we love to do
the sinful ones
time is too long for those that we ought to do
those that could have opened the doors for our salvation
time is dead and then we are gone
regret laughs the hardest and the door to hell opens like the mouth of the
mad one.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dead Or Alive
There in the shadows, looks like a hand
Without its owner, to give it a command
Its got a purpose but I dont know what it is
Im in trouble
There in the streets, looks like a man
But something wrong that I dont understand
His eyes are open but he dont see a thing
His skin is peeling off, his bones are sticking out
Im getting scared
Oh my God (is it dead? )
Is it living? (is it dead? )
Is it dead or alive?
(is it dead? ), is it dead? (is it dead? )
Is it dead? (is it dead? )
Is it dead or alive?
Hiding in the cupboards, like little mice
Hiding in the frigerator, that isnt nice
Its not an animal, it dont have legs
No one else can see it
It moves so fast, corner of my eye
Look again its gone, its hiding
Wont somebody help me, doesnt anybody care?
It waits so patiently, for me to lose my guard
Im getting scared
Is it dead, is it
(is it dead)
Is it dead
(is it dead)
Is it dead or alive
(is it dead)
Is it dead
(is it dead)
Is it dead, is it
I remember there was a time
When dead and buried meant just that
Underneath the cold dark ground
Things stay put!
Oh them bones they make them bodies walk
Them bones, them bones
If they could only talk!
Is it dead (fade)
song performed by by Oingo Boingo
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dead And Broken
Too many things I've never spoken
I'm not feeling fine
I never told you what to do
I never made you a promise that you could hold me to
That'll be the day you see me crying
Everyday, I still say you're dead and broken
Everyday, I still say you're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
How many different faces can you show me?
How many times can you be right?
Another world of fantasy
Another reason for dramatizing everything
Taking it all in just one more time
I'm dying
Everyday, I still say you're dead and broken
Everyday, I still say you're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
Sorry to see that you're underestimated lately
I'd rather be dead and broken than living in your grace
Everyday, I still say you're dead and broken
Everyday, I still say you're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
You're dead and broken
song performed by by Godsmack
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Ghost And A Dream
Rain will fall on the fading flowers,
Winds will blow through the dripping tree,
When Fall leads in her tattered Hours
With Death to keep them company.
All night long in the weeping weather,
All night long in the garden grey,
A ghost and a dream will talk together
And sad are the things they will have to say:
Old sad things of the bough that's broken;
Heartbreak things of the leaf that's dead;
Old sad things no tongue hath spoken;
Sorrowful things no man hath said.
poem by Madison Julius Cawein
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Things Are Getting Better
Well I worked for a week and I got no pay.
(things getting better.)
Well my babys coming back home to stay
(things getting better.)
Well shes coming back home, but I havent got a dime
(things getting better.)
But Ive got my love to keep me fine[? ].
(things getting better.)
Oh-oh
Things getting better.
Things getting better.
Well since my babys been away,
(things getting better.)
Well things got worse from day to day.
(things getting better.)
Well now my babys come back to me.
(things getting better.)
Yeah, itll get better, wait and see.
(things getting better.)
Oh-oh
Things getting better.
Things getting better.
Oh-oh
Things getting better.
Things getting better.
Well I pawned my watch and I sold my car.
(things getting better.)
The money Ive got wouldnt get me far.
(things getting better.)
But I dont mind now that youve packed.
(things getting better.)
Its a fact, that
Things getting better.
Things getting better.
Oh-oh
Things getting better.
Things getting better.
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Impure science
There are things
that science cannot explain
and you can look at calculations
for hours and think about it
and still man’s pure logics
stays a big joke
and we are far too stupid
to really comprehend God
and abnormal things
and there is no hour work
that gets snared somewhere
and make all things calculable.
Scientists do not want to believe
that a almighty God
could talk
and things could originate
and who can really say
how Jesus Christ
made wine from water,
healed the sick,
rose the dead,
multiplied food,
talked to the elements
when his disciples almost drowned
and the wind stops blowing
and the sea calms down?
poem by Gert Strydom
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dead & Broken
Too many things Ive never spoken
Im not feeling fine
I never told you what to do
I never made you a promise that you could hold me to
Thatll be the day you see me crying
Everyday, I still say youre dead and broken
Everyday, I still say youre dead and broken
Youre dead and broken
How many faces can you show me?
How many times can you be right?
Another world of fantasy
Another reason for dramatizing everything
Taking it all in just one more time
Im dying
Everyday, I still say youre dead and broken
Everyday, I still say youre dead and broken
Youre dead and broken
Sorry to see that youre underestimated lately
Id rather be dead and broken than living in your grace
Everyday, I still say youre dead and broken
Everyday, I still say youre dead and broken
Youre dead and broken
Youre dead and broken
Youre dead and broken
Youre dead and broken
Youre dead and broken
Youre dead and broken
Youre dead and broken
song performed by by Godsmack
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Favorite Things
Im thinking of my souls sovereignty and I know everything you hate in me
Fill me up with over-pious badgerings, to throw them up, oh, one of my favorite things
Remember all the lessons fed to me?
Me the young sponge, so ready to agree
Years have gone
I recognize the walking dead now aware that Im alive and way ahead
Too bad the things that make you mad are my favorite things
And Im so happy I see you looking,
I know that youre thinking that Ill never go anywhere
The things that Ive done and teh things that Ive seen
I dont really expect you to care
song performed by by Incubus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Life-Ending
Who of us can escape death's scene
and if we could what would it mean?
Having to face a world gone mad
that can't seem to understand good from bad.
All of the ones that you held dear
gone beyond to a place you fear?
And if we do, who shall we blame?
Those that have taught us as we grew
all the things that we should do.
Things like hate and things to fear,
things like ageing with each new year,
things that tear into the soul,
things that surface and take their toll.
No, we can't escape death's scene
and if we could it would only demean
the importance of how our lives end
and the knowledge that death
is not a dead-end.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dirty Little Secret
I remember the good things
When they used to be exciting
When they had a spark
Now things seem more jaded
Like a dirty poorly kept secret
One we are not supposed to talk about
Fearful of the barbed tongues
Creatively stifled and bound
We keep ourselves from expression
But I remember, I remember
The good things and how they were
How they should be allowed to be
But for the selfish demands of others
The politics of the world govern
And we live almost fearful
While the good things remain
That dirty poorly kept secret
We are never supposed to talk about
poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Objectified
All beautiful things meet their demise
Flowers in bloom surely will die
Frozen are the wings of the dead butterfly
Because all beautiful things meet their demise
All beautiful things meet their demise
Clouds of gray spoil the light of the skies
The ocean must fall in order to rise
Because all beautiful things meet their demise
All beautiful things meet their demise
I knew I was doomed when you first said, “Hi.”
Two ships in the night, we were bound to collide
Because all beautiful things meet their demise
All beautiful things meet their demise
Four months can pass in the blink of an eye
We lose ourselves without having to try
Because all beautiful things meet their demise
All beautiful things meet their demise
The simplest words become hard to define
You can’t see the truth when you cover your eyes
Because all beautiful things meet their demise
All beautiful things meet their demise
Your pay the price to take this ride
Slowly, you find that you’re living a lie
Because all beautiful things meet their demise
All beautiful things meet their demise
Pictures of us will fade over time
We become strangers in a world so wide
Because all beautiful things meet their demise
All beautiful things meet their demise
You’ll keep on searching for what you won’t find
You’ll lose your faith while I lose my mind
Because all beautiful things meet their demise
All beautiful things meet their demise
Sometimes your morals get left behind
It will be too late when you realize
Because all beautiful things meet their demise
poem by Vaida Marea
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ennui
All the things you said
You thought I was dead
Everything made me feel aware
Ah, youre getting old
Youre doing things
Youre losing your hair
All the things that you used to believe in
Turned out to be true, youre guilty of reason
Youre the kind of person that
I could do without
And certain kinds of money would make you see
What its all about
Theres a first time for everything
And a first ones on me, dont you see
All of the things that your old lover said
Look at them, they jump out of windows
And now theyre just dead
Its the truth, dont you realize
Faded without any talent of fun
Running out on the streets, balling anyone
Its the truth, its the truth
Pick up the pieces that make up your life
Maybe some day youll have a wife and them alimony
Oh, cant you see
song performed by by Lou Reed
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Don't Want to Be
I don't want to wait until I'm dead
to tell people I love them.
Don't want to be deceased
then open up an see
me
and things I have done wrong.
Don't want no death bed scenes
and teary eyed I'm sorrys.
Don't want to be stupid about
the little things
like walking away
from a fight.
Don't want to have to twist myself
all out of shape to convince myself
I'm right.
Don't want to ever learn to enjoy
someone's else's pain.
Don't want to kiss evil on the mouth.
Don't want to be dead.
Don't want to think
that I just might be
too late.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dead Babies
Dead Babies
Little Betty ate a pound of aspirin
She got them from the shelf upon the wall
Betty's mommy wasn't there to save her
She didn't hear her little baby call
(Wah!)
Dead babies
Can't take care of themselves
Dead babies
Can't take things off the shelf
Well we didn't want you anyway
Lalala-la, lalala-la, la la la
Daddy is an agrophile in Texas
Mommy's on the bar most every night
Little Betty's sleeping in the graveyard
Living there in burgundy and white
Dead babies
Can't take care of themselves
Dead babies
Can't take things off the shelf
Well we didn't love you anyway
Lalala-la, lalala-la, la la la
Goodbye, Little Betty
Goodbye, Little Betty
So long, Little Betty
So long, Little Betty
Betty, so long
Dead babies
Can't take care of themselves
Dead babies
Can't take things off the shelf
Well we didn't need you anyway
Lalala-la, lalala-la, la la la
Goodbye, Little Betty
song performed by by Iced Earth
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All that is....was
ALL THAT IS........WAS
And so it was
All things that are
Have always been
Everyday things
And things not yet seen
Things living and dead
Colours orange blues and reds
Moonshadows and
Hangman gallows
All are
And have always been
No nightmares are new
Pleasant dreams too
Human love
And raw naked lust
All spawned
In that first
Pinch of dust
All mans needs
Are old not new
Will we ever learn
To give and not
To yearn
Push aside our lust
And in God
Place our trust........
poem by Robert Delucchi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Two Things
Two things that come and go—
Happiness and Sadness
Two things that will never leave us—
Fame and Stigma
Two things that will not come back—
Prestige and Life
Two things that come on their own—
Youth and Age
Two things that follow us—
Virtue and Sin
Two things that cannot be contained—
Grief and Desire
Two things that cannot be avoided—
Hunger and Thirst
Two things that bring about a downfall—
Anger and Jealously
Two things that are common to all—
Birth and Death.
poem by Chandra Thiagarajan
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Those Days
You know those days
when you awake
and gives good moorning to the things?
speak with lifeless and dead objects?
ridiculous acts and thoughts.
Then, you lose your love
And ask to yourself Why?
Because inanimate things remains consistent
And loves need more than 'good day for you'
Love requires something more!
My, now, is dead.Literally
poem by Mirna Morgan
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Nobody But You
Everybody knows that Im just a joe
That likes to hang around
Talkin about my problems
Bringing other people down
Well this may be so, but not long ago
I was sitting on the top of the world
Sure is strange how things can turn themselves around
When Im in need of a little bit of consultation
Used to call on my uncle john
Took a trip down to west virginia
Found him dead and gone
And as some sort of silly little consolation
They gave me my ticket back
What you gonna do with folks like that?
You can talk about bands of angels
And you think you come with your soul in your hands
To set their children free
But you talk about little bit of understanding
Things that happen day to day
Some of you folks sure nuf have been good to me
You come on talkin about angel bands
You think that you come with your soul in your hands
Just to set their children free
But you talk about a little bit of understanding
Things that happen day to day
Some one has been good to me, yeh.
Nobody but you, nobody but you, nobody but you, nobody but you
Nobody but you, nobody but you, nobody but you, nobody but you
Nobody, nobody but you
Nobody, nobody, nobody, nobody
Nobody but you
song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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z-Dead Bodies and Casket Lids
As I lay here
in my dead body
gone;
I think upon what part of my life
will people remark?
Will it be all the good things
I've done
for others who may or may not
have given back?
Will it be my generosity
or my looks;
my achievements;
the little things-
the little gifts-
given
anonymously?
Will it be my deep thoughts
known to no one;
my love given
and/or lovers lost?
Will it be my secret
spot
unknown
where I go to
be with me
and just my thoughts?
As I lay here now dead
and done
I see that
it is too early
to die
for me;
too much undone
to my story.
Have to raise this lid
and get out of here;
because once I am dead
for good
I want to have a better story
of what happened to me;
if I am to be staring
at this casket lid
for all
of the rest
of eternity
my story
has to be
a bit
more
glorious
and contain
a bit more Good.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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