You just pick up a chord, go twang, and you're got music.
quote by Sid Vicious
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I had to learn chord shapes. I bought books with chord charts. I used to listen to all kinds of pop music.
quote by Mick Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sick With The Music
Flick your Bic to the Music.
Don't you know how to get
sick with the music.
Do a high kick to the music.
Twirl a walking stick to the music.
tweak and wreak with the music.
Have mystique with the music.
Make it slick with the music.
I'm all the way sick with the music.
run a pick with the music,
do a trick with the music.
quick as a finger prick with the music.
are you ready to click
with the music? There we go,
what do you know?
Now, we're all the way sick
with the music.
Buddy Bee Anthony
poem by Buddy Bee Anthony
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It's like a piece of music; you never lose sight of the theme. Each scene pushes off to the next like music builds and you can almost hear the next chord progression, so it has a strict structure, which is very compelling.
quote by David Strathairn
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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A Lost Chord
SEATED one day at the Organ,
I was weary and ill at ease,
And my fingers wandered idly
Over the noisy keys.
I do not know what I was playing,
Or what I was dreaming then ;
But I struck one chord of music,
Like the sound of a great Amen.
It flooded the crimson twilight,
Like the close of an Angel's Psalm,
And it lay on my fevered spirit
With a touch of infinite calm.
It quieted pain and sorrow,
Like love overcoming strife ;
It seemed the harmonious echo
From our discordant life.
It linked all perplexéd meanings
Into one perfect peace,
And trembled away into silence
As if it were loth to cease.
I have sought, but I seek it vainly,
That one lost chord divine,
Which came from the soul of the Organ,
And entered into mine.
It may be that Death's bright angel
Will speak in that chord again,
It may be that only in Heaven
I shall hear that grand Amen.
poem by Adelaide Anne Procter
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As long as its music
Please play me a symphony
Make a simple cheerful harmony
Please play me a chord from a guitar
For me, it does not matter
If I’m the only audience of your theatre
Give me some instrumental vibes
All rhythms and tunes are musically ripe
There is no need to take precaution
While playing the Banjo or flamenco percussion
As long as its music
We can all heal
As long as its music
We can all feel
We can sing out our hearts and soul
We can let this music take control
Please play me the drums
We can sing or we can hum
Please play me a CD or a hit record
We could sing to the tunes of an ipod
With the sounds of music we can compose a song
Maybe sing to the town’s bells chiming ding-dong
Please play me the sweet keys of a piano
Hit a sweet note that is a major or minor
As long as its music
We can all heal or cry
As long as its music
We can all feel or fly high
And I will be lost in your voice and eyes
Holding on to each minute that flies
Whatever sounds or instruments
I shall feel good in the moment
Please play me a note from a flute
Those peaceful sounds tend to soothe
I want to hear sweet, sweet music
Choose your lyrics, take your pick
My heart will dance, till she is weak
Get out that guitar, acoustic or electric
Please play me the violins of an orchestra night
String me some melodies in broad daylight
And we can rap to melodious sense or crap
While our feet’s playfully tap, tap and tap
As long as its music
We can dance along the shore
As long as its music
We can all take to the dance floor
And I say once more, once more!
As long as its music, I will only ask for more
poem by Sylvia Chidi
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Pick It Up Or Be Gone
Pick it up or be gone.
What's given.
Pick it up or be gone.
What's there.
Pick it up or be gone.
The steak.
Or the rake.
Or the keys,
To open the gate!
Now...
Pick it up or be gone.
What's given.
Pick it up or be gone.
What's there.
Pick it up or be gone.
The steak.
Or the rake.
Or the keys,
To open the gate!
Now...
Don't try to imitate,
Homemade cake.
Oh no.
And don't ever try to duplicate,
A delicious taste.
Or...
Butter up faked mashed potatos.
Pick it up or be gone.
What's given.
Pick it up or be gone.
What's there.
Pick it up or be gone.
The steak.
Or the rake.
Or the keys,
To open the gate!
Now...
Pick it up or be gone.
Oooow.
Pick it up or be gone.
Yeah.
Pick it up or be gone.
Now...
Pick it up or be gone!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Word
This garden universe vibrates complete.
Some we get a sound so sweet.
Vibrations reach on up to become light,
And then thru gamma, out of sight.
Between the eyes and ears there lay,
The sounds of colour and the light of a sigh.
And to hear the sun, what a thing to believe.
But its all around if we could but perceive.
To know ultra-violet, infra-red and x-rays,
Beauty to find in so many ways.
Two notes of the chord, thats our fluoroscope.
But to reach the chord is our lifes hope.
And to name the chord is important to some.
So they give a word, and the word is om.
song performed by by Moody Blues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I wanted to write songs which I think is a different thing. I wanted to write music that is informed by folk music. The chord progressions are obvious references.
quote by Joanna Newsom
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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7/26/06
i hear the twang
of someone's sadness
played
on a steel guitar
somewhere
down the street -
i am followed
by the music
like
a dog trailing
in the wake
of my travels,
following
at my heels.
but the song
is not in my head
for it evolves
constantly
into newer music
into newer misery;
i am not capable
of holding such sadness
i remain an observer to it
only someone who
has known a great deal of things
can take such melancholy
and twist it to make sounds
so true
and i have learned very little
despite being taught
very much
(july 2006)
poem by Ryan Blood
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Taking An Ostrich
This Ostrich taken, vainly tries
From chord of Courser to be free;
She struggles hard, but man defies
Her bold attempt at liberty.
Ah! Lady take the simile:
As Ostrich caught by twisted chord,
So Woman must obey her Lord.
Awhile, in youth you wander o’er
The golden path of promised joy,
Nor think captivity has store
Of care, life’s bitterest alloy: -
You play with love, as child with toy;
But ah this Ostrich; it will prove
You cannot ‘scape the Chord of Love.
poem by Richard Cobbold
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Music is...
Music is...
Music is expression...
Music is freedom...
Music is the song of life...
Music is notes...
Music is noise...
Music is beat...
Music is relaxing...
Music is peace...
Music is loud...
Music is calm...
Music is meaningful...
Music is sound...
Music is heart...
Music is soul...
Music is mind...
Music is body...
Music is nature...
Music is language...
Music is the song of my life...
Music is everything...
Music is me...
Music is....
poem by Madeline anderson
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There's a difference between the blues of the New Orleans guys and anyone else and the difference is in a chord, but I can't figure the name of it. It's a different chord, and they all make it.
quote by Jimmy Rushing
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Thanks For The G Chord
(Mark Narmore/Byron Hill)
It sure is nice
Sittin' on this porch
Pickin' these old time songs
No matter how far
I get from here
This place still feels like home
Remember all those summer nights
We'd talk about life and such
Well Dad, I've come to realize
I haven't said enough
Thanks for the G chord
Teachin' me about the good Lord
Givin' me that old Ford
When I turned sixteen
Thanks for hangin' in there
When I was goin' nowhere
Thanks for never
Changin' that lock on the front door
Thanks for the G chord
That flat top Martin
You gave me back then
You know I've still got it now
I keep it locked up
In that same ol' case
You used to tote around
Sometimes when the crowd is quiet
I'll bring it out again
And play the first song you taught me
Back when I was ten
Thanks for the G chord
Teachin' me about the good Lord
Givin' me that old Ford
When I turned sixteen
Thanks for hangin' in there
When I was goin' nowhere
Thanks for never
Changin' that lock on the front door
Thanks for the G chord
Thanks for hangin' in there
When I was goin' nowhere
Thanks for never
Changin' that lock on the front door
Thanks for the G chord
song performed by by John Michael Montgomery
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I think there's nothing better than seeing a three-chord straight up rock 'n' roll band in your face with sweaty music and three minute good songs.
Baby be mine
Baby be mine;
Sip dandelion wine,
Condense all the lines:
Slow down time
If a single chord ran through our lives,
Baby would you be all mine?
Baby be mine;
Our hearts we'll bind,
Out of sight and mind,
The hours unwind
If a single chord ran through our lives,
Baby would you be all mine?
Baby be mine;
Loveliness we'll find,
And on beauty dine-
Leave lonely behind
If a single chord ran through our lives,
Baby would you be all mine?
poem by Patti Masterman
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Session Man
He never will forget at all
The day he played at the albert hall.
A million sessions ago it seems.
He is a session man,
A chord progression,
A top musician.
Rock n roll or vocal star[? ],
A philharmonic orchestra,
Everything comes the same to him.
He is a session man,
A chord progression,
A top musician.
Hes not paid to think, just play,
A session man
A session man
A session man
Playing at a different studio every day.
He reads the dots and plays each line,
And always finishes on time.
No overtime nor favors done.
He is a session man,
A chord progression,
A top musician.
Hes not paid to think, just play,
A session man
A session man
A session man
song performed by by Kinks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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All i got to my name.
All I got to my name,
Is my music
It's all i ever am
and all i will be
you can't take it away
it's all i got to my name
My music is my life
my music is my love
my music is my fire on a cold day
my music is my castle where i stay all the day
my music is home
where i feel safe
It's all I got to my name
don't you dare take it away
it's what makes me me and not you
My music is my best friend
my music is my nae
it's all I own that matters to me
My music is all i got to my name
no family
no friends
all i need is my music
I need nothing but my music
it's what I do all the day
all I can say
My music My music
all i got to my name...
poem by Alice Lion
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Music has always been transnational; people pick up whatever interests them, and certainly a lot of classical music has absorbed influences from all over the world.
God's Little Champions
We know there's victory in Jesus
Our strength is trusting in Him
Nations will stand and glorify the Lord
All God's children, always win
We are all God's little champions
There's power in Him even if we fall
We are all God's little champions
The Cross is there for us all
**CHORUS**
We carry the torch of truth
With His Spirit in our hearts
We are all God's little champions
With Him we are set a part
Across the finish line to Heaven
It doesn't matter to Him the score
For in Him there is true Victory
Eternal life forever more
We are all God's little champions
There's power in Him even if we fall
We are all God's little champions
The Cross is there for us all
We carry the torch of truth
With His Spirit in our hearts
We are all God's little champions
With Him we are set a part
We carry the torch of truth
With His Spirit in our hearts
We are all God's little champions
With Him we are set a part
We are all God's little champions
With His Spirit in our hearts
We are all God's little champions
With Him we are set a part
(c) 1996 Words & Music - Gene Gamble /Two-G's Music
Key of C
Chord rotation - C - F - G (fill chord Bb for return) 4/4 moderate pace
poem by Gene Gamble
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Come Dance With Me
A wing flutters and my heart is light
Come the music, sensual, pure delight
The evening warms with magnolia sweet
Your arms open wide, my body to greet
Out of the depths, music is salvation to me
Pour upon flesh, awaken wild spirit with energy
A frenetic movement raises my body's calm
My feet enthuse, driving with worthy alarm
Place your hand in mine, hold this racing feel
Entwined in a symphony where life is unreel
Tempo swells inside to a searing pitch
A chord is presented and happiness seems rich
Melt beside me, let music evolve in time
Where skin is encased by volcanic rhyme
Music is silent, two heartbeats in the dark
You are my music, your dance left its mark
poem by Maria Guzvic
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