Related quotes: Song is not dead, although...

Song is Not Dead

Song is not dead, although to-day
Men tell us everything is said.
There yet is something left to say,
Song is not dead.

While still the evening sky is red,
While still the morning gold and grey,
While still the autumn leaves are shed,

While still the heart of youth is gay,
And honour crowns the hoary head,
While men and women love and pray
Song is not dead.

poem by Robert Fuller Murray
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Related quotes

All Dead, All Dead

Memories, my memories
How long can you stay
To haunt my days
She came without a farthing
A babe without a name
So much ado about nothing
Is what shed try to say
So much ado my lover
So many games we played
Through every fleeted summer
Through every precious day
All dead all dead
All the dreams we had
And I wonder why I still live on
All dead all dead
And alone Im spared
My sweeter half instead
All dead
And gone
All dead...
All dead all dead
At the rainbows end
And still I hear her own sweet song
All dead all dead
Take me back again
You know my little friends
All dead
And gone
All dead and gone
Her ways are always with me
I wander all the while
But please you must forgive me
I am old but still a child
All dead all dead
But I should not grieve
In time it comes to everyone
All dead all dead
But in hope I breathe
Of course I dont believe
Youre dead
And gone
All dead
And gone

song performed by by Queen
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Haunting Song!

A haunting song I hear comes like this..

The song.... coming..... in the wind…
The song coming...... in the wind…
The song coming in the wind...

The song spontaneously flows making eyes foggy…!
The song makes even the stone melt…!
The song makes even dead tree resurrect with leaves…!
The song kisses in many languages…!
The song makes forest animals listen with dizziness…!

When night Moon blossoms as breeze is walking,
A boy in blue colour stands blowing flute forever
And forever my heart melts in the thought of his love!

poem by Ramesh T A
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I Am A Sad Song. I Am The Song Of Death

i am a sad song
don't ever sing me
my lyrics are dangerous
to your quest for happiness
i am a very sad song
don't even ever whistle me
the dead have listened once
and they like being dead forever
those living hummed the tune
and they killed themselves in masse

for i am the song of death
so unforgiving and quick and decisive
it has the sharpest notes of incisions
and the cut is precise, the date so certain.

i am the song of death and you must dislike me.
do not run, i do not chase for i am just a song.
but soon in your ear, i will surely be there.

poem by Suki Nakamura
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I'm Singing

I’m Singing…
I’m Singing a New Song…
Deep Inside my Heart…
It’s a Song…that is different from any other song I have sung before…
It is a Song of…
A Song of Hope,
A Song of Love,
A Song of Fate,
A Song of Peace,
A Song of Friendship,
A Song of Family,
A Song of Life,
A Song of Healing,
A Song of Strength,
A Song of Courage,
A Song of Light,
A Song of Flight…
My Heart is beginning to Soar…
I’m finally starting to Fly…
I’m Singing…

poem by Bleeding Heart
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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When I Think Of Myself As Dead

WHEN I THINK OF MYSELF AS DEAD

When I think of myself as dead
I think of what it will mean for my loved ones
I pray they will not lose heart and hope because of it-
When my father died my brother lost hope-

When I think of myself dead
I wonder about God and Godï¿½s purpose
Is there really an afterlife?
What could it mean?
Will I meet again those who have gone before me?

When I think of myself dead
I think about a body in the ground
Worms eating it, cold paining it-

When I think of myself as dead
I think about never feeling anything again-

When I think about myself as dead
I think about the work I have left behind
And whether it will mean anything to anyone
And for how long-

When I think of myself as dead
I think of all the memories that will go with me
I think about nothing and more nothing and the end of the universe-

When I think of myself as dead
I think of life going on down below
Life with all its beauty and pain
And I pray and I pray again
My loved ones will be able to manage and make their own lives still happy

When I think of myself as dead
I pray to G-d
That somehow in some way
It will not be the end for me forever.

When I think of myself as dead
I think of myself as living again somehow
In a way I cannot now know-

poem by Shalom Freedman
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Song of the World

such a wonderful song
song of life
song of death
wedding song
famine song
happy song
sad song
love song
all-american song
bullshit song
druggie song
girls' song
sweet song
crazy song
MY song

poem by Rachel Stoddard
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Sing Me A Song

Sing me a song,
A song you and I know,
A song that will put me to sleep,
This song that I always listen to makes me cry,
Missing you with every inch on my heart,
Knowing that you will not return,
Sing me a song,
A song that will help me forget about you,
A song that will heal my heart,
A song of forgiveness,
Just sing a song,
A song that can not be forgotten,
A song so memorable,
Only a memory,
Sing me song,
A song that we will love,
A song we can not live with out,
Just sing me a song,
A song that only you and I know.

poem by Jennifer Rondeau
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Ghosts of Dreams

We are all of us dreamers of dreams,
On visions our childhood is fed;
And the heart of a child is unhaunted, it seems,
By ghosts of dreams that are dead.

From childhood to youth's but a span,
And the years of our life are soon sped;
But the youth is no longer a youth, but a man,
When the first of his dreams is dead.

'Tis a cup of wormwood and gall,
When the doom of a great man is said;
And the best of a man is under a pall
When the best of his dreams is dead.

He may live on by compact and plan
When the fine bloom of living is shed,
But God pity the little that's left of a man
When most of his dreams are dead.

Let him show a brave face if he can;
Let him woo fame and fortune instead;
Yet there's not much to do, but to bury a man
When the last of his dreams is dead.

poem by William Herbert Carruth
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Its Not A Song

Day turns to night, and I turn into bed.
Cant get to sleep; somethings in my head.
Pacing the floor, I try to force a rhyme.
Why do I fear this time?
Its not a song till it touches your heart.
Its not a song till it tears you apart.
After whats left of whats right and whats wrong,
Till it gets through to you,
Its not a song.
Now close your eyes; look into your hand.
What do you see?
Life is our song, to give and learn to take.
Time will not wait.
Oh, wont you please come dance,
While the songs still playing,
Wont be long till the silence falls.
Its not a song till it touches your heart. (its not a song.)
Its not a song till it tears you apart.
After whats left of whats right and whats wrong,
Till it gets through to you,
Its not a song.
Its not a song till it touches your heart. (its not a song.)
Its not a song till it tears you apart.
After whats left of whats right and whats wrong,
Till it gets through to you,
Its not a song.
Its not a song till it touches your heart. (its not a song.)
Its not a song till it tears you apart.
After whats left of whats right and whats wrong,
Till it gets through to you,
Its not a song.
Its not a song till it touches your heart. (its not a song.)
Its not a song till it tears you apart.
After whats left of whats right and whats wrong,
Till it gets through to you,
Its not a song.

song performed by by Amy Grant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Neæra’s Wreath

NEÆRA crowns me with a purple wreath
That she with her own dainty hands did twine;
Gold-hearted blossoms and blue buds in sheath,
Mingled with veined green leaves of the wild vine.
Then, bending down her bright head—ah, too nigh!—
She asks me for a song: the daylight dies:
The song is still unwritten: still I lie
Watching the purple twilight of her eyes.

I am her laureate; therefore heart of grace
I take to kiss her. Where was song like this?
Love is best sung of in a loveless place,
For who would care to sing where he might kiss?

poem by Victor James Daley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A PÆan

How shall the burial rite be read?
The solemn song be sung ?
The requiem for the loveliest dead,
That ever died so young?

II.

Her friends are gazing on her,
And on her gaudy bier,
And weep ! - oh! to dishonor
Dead beauty with a tear!

III.

They loved her for her wealth -
And they hated her for her pride -
But she grew in feeble health,
And they love her - that she died.

IV.

They tell me (while they speak
Of her 'costly broider'd pall')
That my voice is growing weak -
That I should not sing at all -

Or that my tone should be
Tun'd to such solemn song
So mournfully - so mournfully,
That the dead may feel no wrong.

VI.

But she is gone above,
With young Hope at her side,
And I am drunk with love
Of the dead, who is my bride. -

VII.

Of the dead - dead who lies
All perfum'd there,
With the death upon her eyes,
And the life upon her hair.

VIII.

Thus on the coffin loud and long
I strike - the murmur sent
Through the grey chambers to my song,
Shall be the accompaniment.

IX.

Thou died'st in thy life's June -
But thou did'st not die too fair:
Thou did'st not die too soon,
Nor with too calm an air.

From more than fiends on earth,
Thy life and love are riven,
To join the untainted mirth
Of more than thrones in heaven -

XII.

Therefore, to thee this night
I will no requiem raise,
But waft thee on thy flight,
With a Pæan of old days.

poem by Edgar Allan Poe
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Vae Victis!

Here in this isle
The summer still lingers,
And Autumn's brown fingers
So busy the while
With the leaves in the north;
Are scarcely put forth
In this land where the sun still glows like an ember,.
In mid-November.

In England it's cold,
And the yellow and red
Of October have fled ;
And the sun is wet gold
Like an emperor weeping,
When Death goes a-reaping
All through his empire, merciless comer
The dead things of summer.

The sky has cried so
That the earth is all sodden,
With dead leaves in-trodden,
And the trees to and fro
Wave their arms in the air
In despair, in despair :
They are thinking of all the hot days that are over,
And the cows in the clover.

Here the roses are out,
And the sun at high noon
Makes the birds faint and swoon.
But the cricket's about
With his song, and the hum
Of the bees as they come
To feast at the honey-board laden and groaning,
Makes musical droning.

But vainly, alas !
Do I hide in the south,
Kiss close with my mouth
Red flowers, green grass,
For Autumn has found me
And thrown her arms around me.
She has breathed on my lips and I wander apart,
Dead leaves in my heart.

poem by Lord Alfred Douglas
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Wine, Women An Song

(coverdale/lord/marsden/moody/murray/paice)
I aint an educated man
As all you fleet street preachers know,
Its just the simple things in life
Get my motor running, ready to go
If I can make you smile
I will raise my glass,
An if you dont like it
Then, baby, you can kiss my ass!
You can tell me its wrong,
But, I love wine, women an song
Give me a good time woman,
An a love potion bottle of booze
cos I got a juke box heart
Full of honky tonk rhythm an blues
You better lock up your daughter, your sister too,
If get in my way, Im gonna rock an roll over you,
Aint nothing you can do
You can tell its wrong,
But I love wine, women an song
Wine, women an song, talking bout
Wine, women an song,
Wine, women an song,
Wine, women an song
You get what you can
But, dont take too long
Wine, women an song,
Give me a rock an roll band
With a mean an dirty blues guitar,
Take me to a dance hall palace
With a twenty four hour bar
Then you better lock up your daughter, your sister too,
If you get in my way, Im gonna rock an roll over you,
Aint nothing you can do
You can tell me its wrong,
But I love wine, women an song
Wine, women an song, talking bout
Wine, women an song,
Wine, women an song,
Wine, women an song
You get what you can
But, dont take too long,
Wine, women an song
Wine, women an song,
Wine, women an song,
Wine, women an song
You get what you can
But, dont take too long,
Wine, women an song
Wine, women an song

song performed by by Whitesnake
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Song Of Love

A song of love
is the sweetest song,
any mortal will ever hear.
It is sung by a choir of angels,
with cherub faces,
and long golden flowing hair.

The song of love
is the silvery glint,
on a moonstone,
captured by one’s eye.
The bright twinkle,
which holds a heavenly sigh.

The song of love
is the stars that rush around your head.
The smile so serine,
that entraps the lonely heart.
The music that sweeps you off your feet,
and leaves you dancing in the air.

The song of love
is the sweetest song,
any mortal will ever hear.
It starts with the first kiss,
which leaves you wanting more,
and will never let you go.

poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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When Love Is Dead

When love is dead
You move to separate beds.
You try to be polite
And ignore every slight.

When love is dead
You just nod your head,
Without paying attention
To what your partner mentions.

When love is dead
Although you share bread,
And live under the same roof
You do your best to remain aloof.

When love is dead
it becomes easy to shed,
any kind of pretence
as now it makes no sense.

When love is dead
A lot is left unsaid,
Why doesn’t any one make
A complete break?

Maybe like worn out shoes
You are too lazy to break the status quo.

poem by Mamta Agarwal
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A Poem For My Beloved

i will sing a song
for you
a sweet song
more like
a whisper
from my soul
for you
my beloved

it is a song
from my heart
filled with
so much
love

it is a song
of smooth words
like a chinese
porcelain

a song of joy
more of bliss
that early
this morning
you wake me
up from such
a stupor

it is a song
about you loving me
even if i have
forgotten you
sometimes

it is a song of praise
and worship
because you my
beloved is always
My God

alleluia! alleluia!
I bow to God
i am his servant.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I Just Didn't Love You

For some Strange reason
I thought you loved me
I guess i was wrong
I thought i loved you
But i loved The song
The song that played when we were together
The song that i wish could last forever
That song was my little secret
I loved that song, i wish could keep it
I promised myself that i wouldn't fall
and i didn't
I just thought i had it all
All i really had was the song
I did have you,
but it turned out you didn't belong
There really isn't any happy endings
I thought it was possible, but who was i kidding
Me and you, we were just pretending
We use to talk on the phone all night
We use to say i love you, but it never felt right
I did love it when we were together
but like they say, nothing lasts forever
I loved how we could talk about everything that's anything
I love how i use to feel when i heard the phone ring
I loved how when i was upset, you always knew exactly what to do
But for some strange reason, i just didn't love you
Our false love is dead
and i realized that song was all in my head

poem by Brittany Cole
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Siren Song

This is the one song everyone
would like to learn: the song
that is irresistible:

the song that forces men
to leap overboard in squadrons
even though they see beached skulls

the song nobody knows
because anyone who had heard it
is dead, and the others can’t remember.
Shall I tell you the secret
and if I do, will you get me
out of this bird suit?
I don’t enjoy it here
squatting on this island
looking picturesque and mythical
with these two feathery maniacs,
I don’t enjoy singing
this trio, fatal and valuable.

I will tell the secret to you,
to you, only to you.
Come closer. This song

is a cry for help: Help me!
Only you, only you can,
you are unique

at last. Alas
it is a boring song
but it works every time.

poem by Margaret Atwood
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