Grandad Played The Banjo
When my grandadpassed away-He left his old banjo to me-He played it unti hiis death-At the age of eighty-three-One of my fondest memories-Was hearing my grandad play-Old-time songs on his banjo-At the end of a summer day-Often on a balmy evening-Grandad brought his banjo to play-Daddy joined in with his guitar-And we passed the time away-We gathered on the back porch-Sometimes neighbors would stop by-Often there was some singing-Of pretty songs by our granny Di.
poem by Joy Thacker
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Related quotes
I told my father I wanted to play the banjo, and so he saved the money and got ready to give me a banjo for my next birthday, and between that time and my birthday, I lost interest in the banjo and was playing guitar.
quote by Jackson Browne
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Applejack
He lived by the apple orchard in this little orchard shack
His real name was jackson taylor but I called him applejack
Now old applejack was loved by everyone he ever knew
Applejack picked apples but he picked the banjo too
Chorus:
Play a song for me applejack, applejack
Play a song for me and Ill sing
Play a song for me applejack, applejack
Play a song, let your banjo ring
Now Id go down to applejacks almost everyday
Wed sit and wed drink applejack that old applejack had made
Then hed take his banjo down then hed ask me if Id sing
And he would play the banjo and Id play my tambourine
Repeat chorus
Thats when I was just a kid and now that I am grown
All I have are memories, old applejack is gone
Oh but he left me his banjo and it always takes me back
And everytime I play it I still hear applejack
Repeat chorus 3 times
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Can Play (Lyrics) :
He didn't give himself up to fear.
And his voice had a life of its own.
He didn't give himself up for broke.
Just a man who played his guitar.
He said 'I can play the guitar', 'I can play it clear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the songs that you want to hear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play it clear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the songs that you want to hear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
He didn't give himself up to drinking beer.
His voice still had a life of its own.
And he didn't give himself up for smoke.
Just a man who played his guitar.
He said 'I can play the guitar'.'I can play it clear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the songs that you want to hear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play it clear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the songs that you want to hear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
He didn't give himself up to curcumstance.
Always tried to make it alone.
He didn't give himself up to telling lies.
His honesty was already shown.
Always kept himself up to par.
Just a man who played his guitar.
He said 'I can play the guitar'.'I can play it clear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the songs that you want to hear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play it clear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'.
'I can play the songs that you want to hear'.
'I can play the guitar'.'I can play'...
Rock Lyric By Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 1987,2009..
ALL rights reserved..
poem by Kim Robin Edwards
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Key To Life
Id love to hear my daddy play once again
All the songs that he taught me when I was a kid
John henry, ol shep and faded love
I fall to pieces and on the wings of a dove
Just a few chords on the banjo that was all he knew
But in the eyes of a child, man his fingers flew
I practiced and I practiced til I got it right
Packed up everything and just took off one night
I made it from the beer joints to the opry stage
He said the only difference is what youre gettin paid
He didnt care that everybody knew my name
He said its all for nothin if you dont stay the same
But when he died the preacher cried and said hes the lucky one
Hes walkin hand in hand in hand with gods only son
My faith and common sense tell me the preachers right
But Id love to hear the banjo ring for me tonight
And I will honor my father with these words I write down
As long as I remember him hell always be around
And the pain of losin him cuts like a randall knife
I learned a few chords on the banjo as the key to life
And the pain of losin him cuts like a randall knife
I learned a few chords on the banjo as the key to life
song performed by by Vince Gill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gartloney Rats
The boys from the village were festering sore
For a day on the rant with some music and more
Theyd drink porter in mauras way over in fore
And never get drunk but stay sober
There was harry the banjo and dunne of the swan
With whose bone from the wing hed beat the bodhran
And the song that hed sing was of ganders and all
Hed never get drunk but stay sober
There was woods on the guitar and auld squeeze box too
Who came from a time before aeroplanes flew
Hed sit in a corner and mule quite a few
And hed never get drunk but stay sober
There was mahon the singer who knew all the songs
And never was known to put a foot wrong
Hed sing through the night till the break o the morn
And hed never get drunk but stay sober
Then harry the banjo now there was a man
A bottomless pit if ever there was one
More porter hed lower that there was in the land
And hed never get drunk but stay sober
Well the gartloney rats would play away
Theyd play for the pints and not for the pay
And the pints theyd go down in the usual way
And theyd never get drunk but stay sober
song performed by by Pogues
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Banjo Song
OH, dere's lots o' keer an' trouble
In dis world to swaller down;
An' ol' Sorrer's purty lively
In her way o' gittin' roun'.
Yet dere's times when I furgit 'em, —
Aches an' pains an' troubles all, —
An' it's when I tek at ebenin'
My ol' banjo f'om de wall.
'Bout de time dat night is fallin'
An' my daily wu'k is done,
An' above de shady hilltops
I kin see de settin' sun;
When de quiet, restful shadders
Is beginnin' jes' to fall, —
Den I take de little banjo
F'om its place upon de wall.
Den my fam'ly gadders roun' me
In de fadin' o' de light,
Ez I strike de strings to try 'em
Ef dey all is tuned er-right.
An' it seems we're so nigh heaben
We kin hyeah de angels sing
When de music o' dat banjo
Sets my cabin all er-ring.
An' my wife an' all de othahs, —
Male an' female, small an' big, —
Even up to gray-haired granny,
Seem jes' boun' to do a jig;
'Twell I change de style o' music,
Change de movement an' de time,
An' de ringin' little banjo
Plays an ol' hea't-feelin' hime.
An' somehow my th'oat gits choky,
An' a lump keeps tryin' to rise
Lak it wan'ed to ketch de water
Dat was flowin' to my eyes;
An' I feel dat I could sorter
Knock de socks clean off o' sin
Ez I hyeah my po' ol' granny
Wif huh tremblin' voice jine in.
Den we all th'ow in our voices
Fu' to he'p de chune out too,
Lak a big camp-meetin' choiry
Tryin' to sing a mou'nah th'oo.
An' our th'oahts let out de music,
Sweet an' solemn, loud an' free,
'Twell de raftahs o' my cabin
Echo wif de melody.
Oh, de music o' de banjo,
Quick an' deb'lish, solemn, slow,
Is de greates' joy an' solace
Dat a weary slave kin know!
So jes' let me hyeah it ringin',
Dough de chune be po' an' rough,
It's a pleasure; an' de pleasures
O' dis life is few enough.
Now, de blessed little angels
Up in heaben, we are told,
Don't do nothin' all dere lifetime
'Ceptin' play on ha'ps o' gold.
Now I think heaben'd be mo' homelike
Ef we'd hyeah some music fall
F'om a real ol'-fashioned banjo,
Like dat one upon de wall.
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Mandolin Rain
(bruce hornsby/john hornsby)
The song came and went
Like the times that we spent
Hiding out from the rain under the carnival tent
Id laugh and hed smile
And it would last for a while
You dont know what you got til you lose it all again
Listen to the mandolin rain, listen to the music on the lake
Listen to my heart break, every time that he goes away
Listen to the banjo wind, a sad song drifting low
Listen to my tears roll, down my face as he turns to go
A cool evening dance
Listening to the bluegrass band takes the chill
From the air til they play the last song
And Ill do my time
Keeping you off my mind but theres moments
That I find, Im not feeling so strong
Listen to the mandolin rain, listen to the music on the lake
Listen to my heart break, every time that he goes away
Listen to the banjo wind, a sad song drifting low
Listen to my tears roll, down my face as he turns to go
Running down by the lakeshore
He did love the sound of a summer storm
It played on the lake like a mandolin
Now its washing him away once again
Once again, once again
Listen to the mandolin rain, listen to the music on the lake
Listen to my heart break, every time that he goes away
Listen to the banjo wind, a sad song drifting low
Listen to my tears roll, down my face as he turns to go
Listen to my tears roll, down my face as he turns to go
song performed by by Pam Tillis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Banjo
I heard a banjo pluck a tune
and thought to myself 'it's only noon.'
Shouldn't banjos be plucked at night
while girls are clogging in delight?
I turned and saw the banjo player
and could tell that he was just a purveyor
of musical beats for all the girls
with round hoop skirts and golden curls.
Dance away you southern belles
while the magnolia sweetly smells.
For when the banjo is all strummed out
the gents shall clap and loudly shout.
'More, more. It's only noon.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Nashville Casualty & Life
In faded gabardine he used to stand
Down by the union station with that ol hat in his hand.
A banjo-pickin devil, a singin rag-time saint.
The young folks called him beautiful, the old folks called him quaint.
And the station-master pointed to the sign
And they busted him for loiterin when he was makin memories rhyme.
Out in the falling snow hed sing his song
To a world too cold to listen and too white to sing along.
Just a nashville casualty and life
Done left him without a dime.
Ever since the good lord took his wife
Youll find him strummin on the corner all the time.
And most of music city never the saw the world within the song
Of a nashville casualty and life goes on.
In the attic sets a dusty hat and cane
And the kids they found a banjo there all rusted from the rain.
I strummed a little rusty rag-time beat
And I sang for every soul out on the street.
I could almost see him standin in the rain
His black and blinded face reflectin all the pain
Of all the years and people passin by
And all the ringin memories that can make a banjo cry.
Just a nashville casualty and life
Its a riff thats hell to play.
You sings for your livin in the street
And you sleeps in the back of some caf
And most of music city never sees the world within the song
Of a nashville casualty and life goes on.
song performed by by Kinky Friedman, lyrics by Kinky Friedman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Katy Brought My Guitar Back Today
Katy brought my guitar back today.
I left it there to play, when I'd stay over.
And I remember all those nights
Sitting in the fireplace light,
And how she loved to hear me play;
Katy brought my guitar back today.
Katy brought my guitar back today.
I've seen it make her cry, over and over.
She told me when I wasn't there,
And she would wake up feelin' scared,
She'd hold it in her arms and be okay;
Katy brought my guitar back today.
We had our stormy times like anybody else;
Oh, more than once I broke her heart.
And when I couldn't tell her I was sorry by myself;
I could tell her with an old guitar.
But, I'm afraid this time things have gone too far.
Katy brought my guitar back today.
I guess that means this time it's really over.
And as I sit and play it now,
The songs all seem so sad, somehow,
I wish that I'd of left it in the case
Katy brought my guitar back today.
And I remember all those nights
Sitting in the fireplace light,
And how she loved to hear me play;
Katy brought my guitar back today...
song performed by by Alabama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oh, Susannah
Well I come from alabama with my banjo on my knee
And Im bound for louisiana, my own true love for to see
It did rain all night the day I left
The weather was bone dry
The sun was so hot I froze myself
Suzanne, dont you go on and cry
I said, oh, suzannah
Now, dont you cry for me
As I come from alabama with this banjo on my knee
Well I had myself a dream the other night
When everything was still
I dreamed that I saw my girl suzanne
She was coming around the hill
Now, the buckwheat cake was in her mouth
A tear was in her eye
I said, that I come from dixie land
Suzanne, dont you break down and cry
I said, oh, suzannah
Now, dont you cry for me
cause I come from alabama with my banjo on my knee
song performed by by James Taylor
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Our Songs
We associate songs with memories
of when we first heard it played.
The song someone sang
on the day we met
becomes one of our beloved tunes.
Whenever we hear it play
our memories come flooding back
to remind us of that special day.
Some songs hold a touch of sadness
and bring tears whenever they are played
as memories of a loss spring to mind.
These are our songs
we attach to our memories
and will remain forever with us
for whenever we hear them play.
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ring Ring The Banjo
De time is nebber dreary if de darkey nebber groans;
De ladies nebber weary wid de rattle of de bones:
Den come again Susanna by de gaslight ob de moon;
We'll tum de old Piano when de banjo's out ob tune.
Chorus:
Ring, ring de banjo! I like dat good old song,
Come again my true lub, Oh! wha you been so long?
poem by Stephen C. Foster
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What Is A Passion Play?
What is a passion play?
just a rhetorical question
an excuse
just a scream
I mean dream
NO! ! ! ! !
Sitting on my front porch
'1972'
3: 00 A.M.
Watching a southern wind
howl and scream
as it races across
the mountain top
I play my banjo
poem by Midnights Voice
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I didn't realize until I was older what a huge music fan my daddy really was, and actually that my grandma played banjo at one time, and I didn't even know that until a year or two ago.
quote by Alan Jackson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The tragic words
I hated the words I was hearing.
But I had to be told.
My beloved grandad was dying.
Cancer was about to take his life.
I didnt want to listen To the words.
I knew That his life would soon end.
I hated this cruel way of life.
I dispised realaity it cut like a knife.
He lived nine months too short.
He left a life time of love.
I didnt get chance to goodbye.
That was probaly just aswell.
I never could of said good bye.
I hate cancer it proved to be fatal.
It took away something good.
I hated the words I was hearing.
I didnt want to hear the truth.
Now my Grandad has gone.
to the skies above to be angel.
And shine in the darkest hour.
He left a few years ago.
It feels like yestaurday.
Time soon flys.
But all is not that bad.
He left good behind him.
He left a legacy of love.
But most of all he left wonderfall memories.
To be treasured forever.
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When we moved back to the US, folk music was all the rage. So I traded in my banjo for a guitar.
quote by Michael Storm
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Santa Rosa
Seems like 10 years ago
Though today my mind is slow
Me and Mickey Craig were running west from Idaho
Robbed a bank to get some bread
Seems like 15 men lay dead
In a path that led us straight to Santa Rosa
Now and then ol' Mick'd say
Boy at home you should of stayed
Than to follow me and learn the life of looking back
But he'd spit and slap his side
Just to see if he's alive
Then he'd sing his banjo song of Santa Rosa
He said whoa-oh, singing oh Santa Rosa
Whoa-oh, high and low-oh-oo
Then one day, sang ol' Craig,
I'll be free to go my way
And be standing by the bay at Santa Rosa
Now one time late at night
Mickey lit no fire light
Cause he feared the posse close behind might flush us out
But he picked a bit 'fore sleep
To the tune of Cripple Creek
He was murdered by a man from Santa Rosa
And he sang whoa-oh, singing oh Santa Rosa
whoa-oh, singing oh Santa Rosa
whoa-oh, high and low-o-o
Til I come once again with my banjo pickin' friend
We'll be oh high and low in Santa Rosa
song performed by by Nitty Gritty Dirt Band
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Hippie Grandad
Nutty banana milkshakes
The smell of Lilac and Gardinia
Clean air
Clean man
Hippie Grandad
Green grass, fresh fruit
Long strands of curly hair
Crazy cool
Crazy man
My Hippie Grandad
Tie dye shirts, Ripped jeans
Not scared of getting older
Young spirit
Tender man
Loving Grandad
Organic life, outspoken soul
Rusty bike, dirty Keds
Open mind
Wise man
Was my Hippie Grandad...
poem by Annamaria Jara
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An angel came one afternoon
An Angel came one afternoon.
A visit hedid pay.
That Angel took my grandad.
And tore my hart away.
So loving and loved.
He was.
I miss him so very much.
My best friend.
I truly loved my Grandad.
Honestly I did.
More than words can ever say.
Lord why did that Angel come.
And take him away?
The answers I will not know.
For it was Your chosen way.
I know my Grandad is in heaven.
Safe in your arms I pray.
poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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