He is the king. If it hadn't been for Link Wray and 'Rumble,' I would have never picked up a guitar.
quote by Pete Townshend
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
God is playing my guitar, I am with God when I play.
Because I'm not the same today as I was in '58, or '59 or even '71.
If you went to see me today, you might not like my music.
You know, I'm an eagle, flying around in the mountains.
I just believe in my Indian, spiritual god and my music.
I'm surprised that I actually pulled off the recording, getting all those people at the same time.
Elvis was rock'n'roll. He came from the poverty and the pain.
Soul music is pain - you can hear the slaves, the beatin' and the hurtin'.
Money don't rule me, record companies don't rule me.
If Hadn't Got You
If I hadn't got you
If I hadn't got you
Whose friend would I be
If I lied all the time
If you never trusted my word
The love that we make
when feelings run high
Is all that makes sense in the world
And I can never go back, oh no
For a moment of sweet solitude
If I ever go back
I'd be looking for you
If I hadn't got you
Whose friend wouId I be
If I hadn't got you
I would die in solitary
If I hadn't got you
God only knows what I'd do
God only knows
Who's friend would I be if
I can't take a joke
If I can't pull a smile from a tear
The love that I feel
whenever you're close
Makes yesterday's hurt disappear
And I can never go back, oh no
For a moment of sweet solitude
With my head in my hands
I've been waiting for you
If I hadn't got you
Whose friend would I be
If I hadn't got you
I would die in solitary
If I hadn't got you
Whose air would I breathe
If I hadn't got you
God only knows what I'd do
God only knows
So don't turn away
Never go back
Hold onto love
Cos love is all we have
Maybe you'll be lost in this world
Without me
If I hadn't got you
Whose friend would I be
If I hadn't got you
I would die in misery
If I hadn't got you
Whose air would I breathe
If I hadn't got you, yeah
If I hadn't got you
God only knows what I'd do
God only knows
song performed by by Lisa Stansfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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My next book is Scene by Scene: as Seen by Fay Wray. It'll be about different incidents. Just my feelings about quite a few people. Attitudes. My thoughts about the universe and simple things like that.
Showdown
Johnny cool was the king
The leader of the boot boys
Hed never cause no trouble
In a rumble make some noise
He heard about some chick
And they she like to rock
He said come here honey
Let me see you lift up your frock
Theres gonna be a showdown
Miss lucy was a chick
He knew she like to ball
He said come on lucy
It doesnt matter to me at all
But miss lucy got a fella
With a flick knife in his hand
Johnny cool pulls a shotgun
The man is in command
Theres gonna be a showdown
King cool
King kong
King king
With all the kings
King of hearts hes a lover
King of spades hes a brother
King of clubs makes a dollar
King of diamonds the wedding ring
Theres gonna be a showdown
song performed by by Thin Lizzy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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But I don't believe in organised politics, organised religion, organised music, organised anything.
My Beloved Guitar
The long solid neck,
With flowing, refinded strings.
A base of cherry; finished wood.
Defined in figure, exquisite;
Among other things.
Shaped with a curve,
Set down in my lap.
I picked up my guitar,
And made my fingers tap.
A symphony from,
Those melodic strings.
Part of my hearts amour.
My fingers graze along,
This coppery and bronze decor.
A roughness they slide.
Along the ends;
Roughness on my fingertips.
A sliding; an arry of refreshing sounds.
One that echos into the bottem,
And emerges to astound.
My arm embraces the frame work,
A base of refined finished wood.
Tuned to a sound,
Like a guitar should.
My fingers cradle those melodic stings.
The light strum of my hand,
Makes music;
The guitar sings.
From the mouth of a speaker.
Out comes a tune.
With a cadence strum.
Fingers pressed down,
Out the music comes.
A symphony from,
This rhythmic harmony.
A tone in my soul.
A note that's always been apart of me.
A feeling I once knew.
I recall, a sound in the distance.
A beauty that plays so smooth.
Shaped with a curve,
Set down in my lap;
I picked up my guitar.
It slowly starts to come back.
That feeling, I'll never forget.
I recall, a sound not so far.
I recall, the feeling that day;
The day I picked up my beloved guitar.
poem by Jessie Jett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I am ever mindful of the legacy of my grandfather, the founder of this Kingdom, who had said to me that he perceived his life as a link in a continuous chain of those who served our nation and that he expected me to be a new and strong link in the same chain.
quote by King Hussein I
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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King Electric
King electric, motor on
The king is dead, the king is gone
The king is in us, let his song
Play on!
King electric, motor on
The king is dead, the king is gone
The king is in us, let his song
Play on!
I was cutting a dash down bleecker street
The sewer was a-staiming underneath my feet
I looked down macdougal bout half a block
Said to myself thats where you come from
I got a vision right there and then in my minds eye
You in your finery, strolling by
Hands on your hip and your guitar case
Sound of the future blowing in your face
King electric, motor on
The king is dead, the king is gone
The king is in us, let his song
Play on!
I stepped down the stairs, ventured through the door
Sound nearly knocked me clean to singapore
Black man child waltzing cross the stage
Squeezing guitar, singing purple haze
King electric, motor on
The king is dead, the king is gone
The king is in us, let his song
Play on!
I remember back home, many moons ago
I had a front-room band, you should have heard us blow
We were rough as a dog, loud as sin
With a lead guitar player, name of davy flynn
He could play with his teeth, upside of his head
He could make that thing ring like a-raising that dead
You were his idol, you were his man
I didnt get it then davy, now I understand
King electric, motor on
The king is dead, the king is gone
The king is in us, let his song
Play on!
cos you were just to early, I was just too late
You were just too fine, you were just too great
You were just too real, you were just too true
This world wasnt beautiful enough for you
King electric, motor on
The king is dead, the king is gone
The king is in us, let his song
Play on!
Keep your electric eye on me, babe
Put your ray gun to my head
Press your space face close to mine, love
Freak out in a moonage daydream, oh yeah
Keep your electric eye on me, babe
Put your ray gun to my head
Press your space face close to mine, love
Freak out in a moonage daydream, oh yeah
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Secret of Life
The artist picked his career
With the intention of just being good.
Finding that to get what you seek
You cannot just be good,
'Would I have picked this job, ' he thought,
'Had I known what now I know,
That there is bad in what I sought? '
He had a go at doing
What a teacher said,
Using glue,
Using lots of glue,
But finding still
Some goodness left,
Used only glue instead.
Asked for his finding
On the secret of life,
He admitted he hadn't a clue,
'But I know where it has to lie,
It can only lie in the binding.'
poem by Douglas Scotney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Well, the Empire State was about 40' high in the studio. King Kong was a little model about 2' high, and the scenery that he worked in was in proportion to his size.
My Sad Guitar (In Iraq)
When I play...my sad guitar,
With powered chords...of deep emotion.
I strum the strings...with such devotion,
When I play...my...sad...guitar.
When I play...my sad guitar,
In a bunker, built in the sand.
This war torn country, this desert land,
I miss playing...In a rock and roll band.
When I play...my...sad...guitar.
When I play...my sad guitar,
My memories play,
Deep in my mind,
I try to find-
Our... wedding... day!
When I play...my...sad...guitar.
When I play...my sad guitar,
I think of my Harley...My hot-rod car,
Wishing I was home,
With a beer in a bar.
When I play...my...sad...guitar.
poem by Philip Lore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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King Creole
(words & music by jerry leiber - mike stoller)
Theres a man in new orleans
Who plays rock and roll
Hes a guitar man
With a great big soul
He lays down a beat
Like a ton of coal
He goes by the name of king creole
You know hes gone, gone, gone
Jumpin like a catfish on a pole
You know hes gone, gone, gone
Hip shaking king creole
When the king starts to do it
Its as good as done
He holds his guitar
Like a tommy gun
He starts to growl
From way down his throat
He bends a string
And thats all she wrote
Well, he sings a song about a crowded hole
He sings a song about a jelly roll
He sings a song about meat and greens
He wails some blues about new orleans
Well, he plays something evil
Then he plays something sweet
No matter what he plays
You got to get up on your feet
When he gets the rockin fever
Baby, heaven sakes
He dont stop playin
till his guitar breaks
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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