The tiny Bar behind the junk yard
It's very sad to see
The cemetery of Automobiles
At the Twilight!
Like dead souls
Piled up to the sky.
A Guy comes out of the rickety gate
With an acoustic guitar
And he enters the bar.
It's full of smoke
With dim lights
And here & there
Women & Men dance.
Waiting for him to sing.
He sips a can of beer
And strums the guitar
Then started singing;
'Here's the tiny bar
Behind the junk yard
Once those beautiful cars
Ran like Jets; Yet seemed to be proud
And showed the prestige!
My life's a car
But I cannot go far
When it's not roadworthy
I have to come here
As they say I am not trustworthy!
My life is a car
Though it's roadworthy
Where can I go
If the paths were closed unanimously?
*Humbly to the poetess Vessy in gratitude!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
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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My Own Fairytale
my fairytale is beautiful it is the only thing that is my own
there are trees and wild flowers with little fairies
there are love bugs and butterflies
i sit on a log and play my guitar and sing beautiful songs
the fairies gather around to hear the beautiful noise
but my fairytale is dead now and has no color
only because my heart is broken and i broke a string on my guitar
and i sit on this log weeping and waiting for someone
to restring my guitar and to repair my heart
as if that will ever happen........................................... ...........................! ? !
poem by Breanna Wilson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Dorsey played the upright bass and steel guitar, as well as acoustic guitar. Johnny played acoustic guitar and together they were fabulous songwriters and singers.
quote by Jimmy Griffin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I play piano and guitar. Acoustic guitar. I tried studying classical guitar when I was 16 but it got really hard. I could never play a lead to save my life.
quote by Kip Winger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Guitar Man
They call me the guitar man.
Cause I can really bend those strings.
I no longer play in a band,
But I can make my guitar sing.
There ain't nothing I can't play,
I carry music in my soul.
I play better than yesterday,
I can play some solid gold.
My acoustic Alvarez,
Can either sing or cry.
I thank the Lord, that he has blessed,
My guitar and me from on high.
If you're ever down in Texas,
Come and see this guitar man.
I don't look at all like Elvis,
But I do the best I can.
Ask around and you will see.
That I am not so hard to find.
If you hear music, thats where I'll be,
So come on down, if your'e inclined.
9/5/10 Alton Texas
poem by Juan Olivarez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Guitar At Two In The Morn
Someone strums a guitar, at two in the morn,
Such a melancholy sound.
In the darkest hours before the dawn,
Where only silence does abound.
The body of a woman, weeping in the night,
While somebody strums her strings.
A tortured soul, before first light,
While the guitar gently sings.
poem by Juan Olivarez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Come On Everybody
Oh come on
Come on
Everybody
Everybody
Sing it
Sing it
Come on
Come on
Everybody, everybody, sing it
Sing it
Though my shoes are thin
Lord lord
And my coat isnt hangin down
Lord lord
But this song is mine
Sos this old guitar
If youve been down the end of time
Youll have seen my face before
Ha!
Though I aint had a meal in days
Cuz as soon as I start to play
You know its just for you
Cause I love it here
In this square waiting
Waiting for the people to come
Oh come on
Come on
Everybody
Everybody
Sing it
Sing it
Come on
Come on
Everybody, everybody, sing it
Sing it
Though my shoes are thin
Lord lord
And my coat isnt hangin down
Lord lord
But this song is mine
Sos this old guitar
Oooh I spend my life by the river side
Unless somebody takes me in
If they do or they dont
Its all the same
I live the life I do
Living and singing for free
Cause I love it here
In this square
Waiting for the people to come
Come on
Come on
Oh come on
Come on
Everybody
Everybody
Sing it
Sing it
Come on
Come on
Everybody, everybody, sing it
(sing it)
Though my shoes are thin
(lord lord)
And my coat isnt hangin down
(lord lord)
But this song is mine
Sos this old guitar
All right I said come on!
song performed by by Rick Springfield
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I'm not good enough to be playin' much acoustic guitar onstage. Man, you gotta get so right; I mean, the tones, the feel, the sound. Plus, acoustic blues guitar is just that much harder on the fingers.
quote by Johnny Winter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Saturday Night At The Local
Saturday night in The Ramble Inn Bar
Johnny the folk singer strums on his guitar
For his entertainment in beer he is paid
Not a hard one to please is Danny McDaid,
Saturday night the night for the sing along
Everyone gets a chance to sing a song
Anyone who sings will get a free beer
Saturday night is the night of good cheer,
Annie she sings and she receives an encore
Drinks her free beer and she sings a few more
Singing and dancing and reciting rhyme
Everyone's having a jolly good time,
Nobody is looking for trouble or fight
Down at the Local on Saturday night.
poem by Francis Duggan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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The Manacled Man's Itinerary
Tiny Termites are born to destruct the timber
And rust will destroy the iron.
Precious gold is everlasting,
But the shine will bring thieves more closely.
Beauty is a gift,
And you have to protect from the evil.
Life is a road. [It’s not silky anyhow]
The roadway full of road works ahead.
If this polite man is roadworthy somehow?
Then he goes to a certain extent,
Perhaps the frustration of sinister
He stops for a while on the way
And there is no more hearsay of the traveller.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Rivera's Place...
there was singing,
the girl with a pigtail has angelic voice
the guy beside her strums the guitar
most of the good guys here
have white hairs
and the women are fat,
no one seems to be sexy
attending
the funeral.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Play For Me My Beloved Guitar
Play for me my beloved guitar
A Love Song for my Dearest whose heart is filled with hurt;
With your strings of gold
Pluck out all her troubles from old
Play for me my beloved guitar
A Ballad for my Son whose life is full of uncertainties;
With your tunes so mellow
To a straight path let him follow
Play for me my beloved guitar
A Lullaby for my Daughter whose life is full of struggles;
With your sound so sweet
Into life's hurdles let her succeed
Play for me my beloved guitar
A Sonnet for my Brothers whose lives seem to be so hard;
With your timbre so soft
Into difficulties let them keep up
Play for me my beloved guitar
A Gospel for the World full of hatred and war;
With your resonance so pleasant
Chaos and crimes be gone
Play for me my beloved guitar
An Ode for My Soul full of burdens of the above;
With your lovely tunes and my dexterous fingers
Healing, inspiring, uplifting, motivating and peaceful songs, we will play together.
10/16/10(17: 27) -GYO Iraq
I even played bass for a while. Besides playing electric guitar, I'd also get asked to play some acoustic stuff. But, since I didn't have an acoustic guitar at the time, I used to borrow one from a friend so I could play folk joints.
quote by Mark Knopfler
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Man with a Guitar
Men talk on the public square,
Pigeons eat on the sidewalk and fly,
Women flirt and feed the pigeons.
Men, envious of pigeons,
Desire more attention from the women
But women only notice birds who know how to sing.
There comes a nightingale that starts singing
And attention moves from pigeons to nightingales;
There comes a man with a guitar, and he starts playing
And singing like a nightingale.
A woman allured by these new sounds
Forgets the pigeons and nightingales;
She shyly starts to sing
And turns to a man with a guitar.
poem by Dejan Stojanovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Fastest Guitar Alive
Orbison/dees
Hey here I go a lucky so and so
Happy cos I know Ive got my fast guitar
Singing pretty songs, knowing I belong
I am first and last, and always a fast guitar
The fastest guitar alive
Rattling strings like a gattling gun
Shaped like a lovely woman
Stay right where you are
My guitar is a fast guitar
The fastest guitar alive
Im rolling on like a rolling stone
Gathering no moss, I play a boss guitar
The fastest guitar alive
Strumming like a battling soldiers drum
Shaped like a lovely woman
Stay right where you are
My guitar is a fast guitar
The fastest guitar alive
Hey here I go a lucky so and so
Happy cos I know Ive got my fast guitar
The fastest guitar
The fastest guitar
The fastest guitar alive
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Changes In Her Life
SHE used to sing and dance
play the piano and strum the guitar
and fiddle the violin,
NOW, she is changed
she second fiddles with violence.
she drums the guitar, she pays the pianist.
she hates to sing and detests any dance.
AFTER, he was gone.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Acoustic Guitar
Who is the guitar?
Who is the player?
One thing I am sure about
I never played with a
Missing wires
Or unadjusted
Acoustic guitar!
I do not even try!
So lady go and adjust yourself,
Your wires,
Your bolts,
Your springs,
Your hands
And check the oil if it needs
To be changed.
Everything looks
Like
A musical chaos.
But,
Sometimes
It comes to my feelings:
An acoustic guitar
Without
Wires
Is like messaging the skin
Of a drum.
So lady,
Tune into yourself
Than tune in me,
So we can
play together
A symphony
Starting from a primitive smiling ritual
To a civilized hungry angry love.
poem by Atef Ayadi
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My stuff was more of a folk coffeehouse thing, with more acoustic guitar, just me doing a single, and then adding on instruments and voices, with emphasis on lyrics and singing and light kind of acoustic jazz.
Learning To Live Alone And Be Happy
in my little Bisayan town
the guitar strings are loose
and the sound
becomes musically challenged
i will be having a hard time
with my lyrics
and choice of pitch
because of this faulty guitar
and this
hardheaded guitarman
one day i decided to sing alone
less the guitar
and the guitarist
and then i learned to live
and sing
without so much fuss
without
any need for a guitar
or any accompaniment
surprisingly
i can sing alone and yet
still be in tune
without things
without so many people
yes, it is this solitude
and the rest becomes mere surplusage
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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