Through The Headphones
Stretched out on the bed.
Snuggled up in flannel pj's.
Folded hands on chest.
Headphones placed on ears.
Portable CD player at my side.
Volume up - as much as I can handle.
I listen to my albums
through the headphones.
Hearing the music
in a whole new way.
Up close and personal.
Is this the same 20 year old song?
I never heard that lyric.
I never heard those notes.
I don't hear that on the record player.
I didn't know they did that
in the background.
Through the headphones
the voices come from straight ahead,
somewhere from the left or from the right.
I've never heard these songs this way.
I now have a whole new record collection.
Related quotes
Take On The World
You got to leave your seat, you gotta get up upon your feet,
Youre gonna move ya to the rhythm till you never can stop.
We got the power, we got the music, and you bet that you can use it,
Were gonna take rock-bottom, were gonna take it to the top.
Put yourself in our hands, so our voices can be heard,
And together we will take on all the world.
Put yourself in our hands, so our voices can be heard,
And together we will take on all the world.
Move a little nearer, you know you gotta follow your leaders,
As we need you, like you need us for sure.
Were gonna drive you, were gonna ride you,
Were gonna get right inside you,
And if you wanna keep going, just shout out for more!
Put yourself in our hands, so our voices can be heard,
And together we will take on all the world.
Put yourself in our hands, so our voices can be heard,
And together we will take on all the world.
Sing your song, well listen to you.
Sing your song, the spotlights are you.
Put yourself in our hands, so our voices can be heard,
And together we will take on all the world.
Put yourself in our hands, so our voices can be heard,
And together we will take on all the world.
Put yourself in our hands, so our voices can be heard,
And together we will take on all the world.
Put yourself in our hands, so our voices can be heard,
And together we will take on all the world.
song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Homesick At Space Camp
Landing on a runway in Chicago
and I'm grounding all my dreams of ever really seeing California
because I know what's in between
is something sensual in such non-conventional ways
Tonight the headphones will deliver you the words that I can't say.
Tonight I'm writing you a million miles away.
Tonight is all about "We miss you."
And I can't forget your style or your cynicism
somehow it was like you were the first to listen to everything we said
My smile's an open wound without you
And my hands are tied to pages inked to bring you back.
Tonight the headphones will deliver you the words that I can't say.
Tonight I'm writing you a million miles away.
Tonight is all about "We miss you."
These friends are, new friends are golden.
song performed by by Fall Out Boy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Every Song Sings Your Name...
Every word escapes from two small headphones
soothing my soul with divine love so unforgettable.
My yearning heart dips into a pool of butterflies,
tingling me eternally, as continuous songs sing various melodies
so sweet, screaming your name as I listen close.
Thoughts of you evolve into lasting desires.
Soaking in every beautiful lyric full of passion,
each engraved into this soul that longs your touch.
Time elapses as songs continue to flow delicately,
uniquely shouting your name through my ears.
These emotions are impossible to dissolve in this water
full of heart-shaped monarchs that scream your name.
poem by Rivers O'Donahue
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The Source
There in the fringe of trees between
the upper field and the edge of the one
below it that runs above the valley
one time I heard in the early
days of summer the clear ringing
six notes that I knew were the opening
of the Fingal's Cave Overture
I heard them again and again that year
and the next summer and the year
afterward those six descending
notes the same for all the changing
in my own life since the last time
I had heard them fall past me from
the bright air in the morning of a bird
and I believed that what I had heard
would always be there if I came again
to be overtaken by that season
in that place after the winter
and I would wonder again whether
Mendelssohn really had heard them somewhere
far to the north that many years ago
looking up from his youth to listen to
those six notes of an ancestor
spilling over from a presence neither
water nor human that led to the cave
in his mind the fluted cliffs and the wave
going out and the falling water
he thought those notes could be the music for
Mendelssohn is gone and Fingal is gone
all but his name for a cave and for one
piece of music and the black-capped warbler
as we called that bird that I remember
singing there those notes descending
from the age of the ice dripping
I have not heard again this year can it
be gone then will I not hear it
from now on will the overture begin
for a time and all those who listen
feel that falling in them but as always
without knowing what they recognize
poem by William Stanley Merwin
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The Only Voices I hear Are On The Inside
I was born not being able to hear
Born not hearing my mother tell me I'm dear
Born never listening to anyone who spoke to me
Born not enjoying music
Born without the ability to gauge sound, unable to hear the clock tick
But since the day I was born
Since before I could talk, I could scorn
There was one thing I always did hate
And that was the thing deepest inside of me,
The thing for which I cursed fate
Worse than deafness or being unable to see
Since the day I was born I heard voices
Not when loved ones talked, but voices that weren't my choice
To hear, voices that were inside my head
Voices that nobody else heard, but I didn't know if they were lying
Because my hearing has always been dead
I'd hear screeching or dying
When none was there
Those voices they'd tell me what to do and how could I deny them?
They were, they are, and they will be the only ones who care
Because they're the only one that speak to me, I can't find the sin
That I committed to be born like this, to be born broken
I've heard more conversations than any other man
And yet I've never heard man utter a word, through my whole lifespan
The only voices I hear are on the inside
And it's the greatest torment that I hide
They'll just tell me I'm crazy, well in writing
But these voices, they accept me, they sing
These voices they know because they've talked to me
These voices are the only I've ever known the
The first voices I've ever heard
Like a mother, I've never listened to a singing bird
But I've listened to a cacophonous symphony of arguing inside my head
These voices are like the woman I did not choose, but wed
I can't separate myself from them
The only time I hear anything, it's torment to condemn
Me, it's funny that I could never speak to anyone but myself
But I guess I've never, ever, been lonely... not ever.
I
Have
Never
Been
Alone
W ho could save me from myselves?
poem by David Knox
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I thought my Beatles LPs sounded pretty good on a record player, but that was before I had heard a CD.
quote by Alastair Wood
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When I get the record, all it will make me is the player with the most hits. I'm also the player with the most at bats and the most outs. I never said I was a greater player than Cobb.
She goes on the set with headphones and gives you notes. She's terrific and I always run to her now, because she is just great to work with, as well as very good at different accents.
quote by Albert Finney
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Freedom through music
Music is like a drug, i've just gotta have it
Music to me is like crack to a addict
With music in my ears, i've just enter a state of freedom
That's a feeling i wish never to come away from
I block out the world through music blaring from my headphones
With music blaring through in my ears i'm in a world of my own
With music, i'm feel as free as a bird
All thanks to this one word.
M-MESMERIZING
U-UPLIFTING
S-SE DUCTIVE
I-INCREDIBLE
C-COMPELLING
I'm addicted to it, i can't seem to live without it
Cause i found my freedom through music
poem by Harrison Fairchild
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Life
Ssssshhhhh.....just listen.
Hear that?
That is the sound of life.
Did you hear it?
Try again.
Ssssshhhh....try harder.
heard it...?
No? .
Close your eyes.
Sit perfectly still.
Listen to the background.
Listen.
Heard it now?
Good.
Remember it.
For it is all around you.
It's the true story.
Not the fiction you make of it.
It's real.
poem by Dave James
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We've Heard It All Before
Einstein, he said, nothings original
Find something new, That's easy for him to say
Took his whole life explaining his theory
Try squeezing your life into 3 minute songs like
"My love, your face is a symphony
You play the strings of my heart
Say that we never shall part
If you say goodbye, then I'll surely die without you"
Oh, we've heard it all before
Oh, we've heard it all before
Don't wanna hear it anymore
We've heard it, we've heard it (oy)
We've heard it, we've heard it (oy)
We've heard it, we've heard it (oy)
We've heard it, we've heard it (oy)
We've come a long way from mono to stereo
Mozart would freak at the crap on the radio
Hits all produced by computer technology
Stick it in one end, it comes out the other
"My love, your face is a symphony
You play the strings of my heart
Say that we never shall part
If you say goodbye, then I'll surely die without you"
Oh, we've heard it all before
Oh, we've heard it all before
Don't wanna hear it anymore
We've heard it, we've heard it (oy)
We've heard it, we've heard it (oy)
We've heard it, we've heard it (oy)
We've heard it, we've heard it (oy)
You plug us in and we regurgitate the hits
Bombard your senses with sound of microchips
Program it digitally into the top five
Brainwash your ears, is it tape or is it live?
Live, live, live, live, live, live, live, live, live
Oh, we've heard it all before, we've heard it, we've heard it
Oh, we've heard it all before, we've heard it, we've heard it
Don't wanna hear it anymore, we've heard it, we've heard it
Oh, we've heard it all before, we've heard it, we've heard it
Oh
song performed by by 10 Cc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I can't hear anything, John. Please, would you put on your headphones?
quote by Connie Sellecca
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Let Me Entertain You
To the man playing his music loudly onboard my train:
Both you and I can hear your music, oh so very plain.
It doesn't seem to be appreciated by this here crowd.
Tell me, does your music really need to be quite so loud?
To play loud music in a public place, I would not dare,
But, to me, it is very obvious that you just do not care.
If you bought yourself a pair of groovy new headphones,
Then your fellow travellers, on this train, won't need to moan.
To you, your music will still be heard loud and crystal clear,
But, your music, your fellow passengers will not have to hear.
During their journey, some passengers like to have a chat,
And that's perfectly fine by me: I'm totally okay with that.
Spare a thought for those poor people who are trying to read:
To play your music quite so loudly, is there really any need?
From the people who are trying to read newspapers or books,
You certainly seem to be acquiring some pretty dirty looks.
At first, I thought you'd turned the volume up purely by mistake,
But now I realise that you are doing it just for annoyance sake.
I guess that your sole ambition was to be the star attraction?
I hope you feel you've achieved this by your current actions?
Your fellow passengers, you decided you would like to entertain,
But can't you tell from their faces, they think your music is a pain?
I'm sure many people share my view, but don't want to get involved,
So if you could switch your stereo off, the problem would be resolved.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Paul Anka
I put a record or a disc oı ver there...on the old veteran record player...and the disc began to turn byself onthe tı urntable...what a fantacy....look at the music...shattering the room...to my memories...see it...from ancient scratched old and ancientr recorded things....paul ANKA sings in my ears...''I am so young...you are so old..this my darling ı have been told......oh please stay with me diana....and so so so...go record go...take the rust of my ears...the turntable clumsily turns....that takes me to the years...1955 or 1960s....or something later or between.....ı was a student in a boarding school...in istanbul......istanbul..istanbull...there must be a song like this nowadays...in desolate rooms on vacations....the songs of paul were my companı ons to my lonelı hood....ı imagined the seas....lived fancy loves...sung by his songs...but that was in memories....ı was in love with the lady with a big umbrella....yes ı did it my way....under the voices of dean martin...frank sinatra and santana...the magic woman was our secret....while my brother managing the music room and the pı ano....ı wrote humble poems lı ke these...paul was a famous singer then....a boy genı us...world known...years passed so quı ckly....after 38 years in the home affairs..ı retired...become an old poet unknown...but their songs too dissapeared....now we live in a world of internet...and easy hand....my lips cannot sing songs.....teenaging left....ı wönder where were those singers went....thge name of paul anka and pat where do they rest.....april love has been forgotten very soon...we lı ve in a world following spoon...hunger is not satisfied with the spoon...but our souls will need them soon....where have they gone.....their songs appear on my old veteran lazy turntable ancient...ı bought from the flea market...from time to time....come lets listen them...remember our old days...lets sigh a little bit fun
poem by Metin Sahin
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I think Blank Generation holds up pretty well. You listen to that with headphones and there's a lot going on there with the guitars- it's the product of a lot of fighting.
quote by Robert Quine
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Last Song
The last song that I shall write
will probably never be heard.
For I shall dream it in the night,
both the notes and the word.
I’m certain it will be the best of the lot
and be heard only by me.
That thought ties me in a knot
from which I am not free.
Will it be fast? Will it be slow?
Will it be smooth and sensual
or maybe a crisp staccato?
No more song after that.
It will shut my music down.
And I will content myself after
with the knowing that all I’ve written
was with passion for the sound.
For I’ve heard these sounds
since I was born
on a cold and blustery Wednesday morn.
I came into this world with music
and will leave with it someday.
And the last song will travel with me
and be heard in the Milky Way.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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I Have Heard Only My Own Silence Today
I HAVE HEARD ONLY MY OWN SILENCE TODAY
I have heard only my own silence today-
And what I am trying to do now
Is hear my words as poetry-
I wait and listen
I let silence play softly next to me
I lean over and bend my ear-
Nothing is heard-
I am not a poem
And life is not poetry
And all that there is
Vain lines of a vain passing player
Who soon will sing no more.
poem by Shalom Freedman
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Payola Blues
This ones for you al freed,
Wherever you go, whatever you do
cause the things theyre doing today
Will make a saint out of you
Payola blues.
Ive got the payola blues
Even though I already paid my dues.
Listen to me mr. d.j., hear what Ive got to say
If a man is making music, they ought to let his record play.
Payola blues
No matter where I go
I never hear my record on the radio.
Well, heres three thousand, that ought to get it on.
Well, thanks a lot man! I love your new song.
Payola blues
No matter where I go
I never hear my record on the radio.
And it goes like this.
I got a brand new record company, new manager too.
Got a great new record, I cant get through to you.
Payola blues
No matter where I go
I never hear my record on the radio.
How about this new mercedes benz, that ought to get it on.
Well, thanks a lot man! Ill play it all day long.
Payola blues
No matter where I go
I never hear my record on the radio.
Ive got the payola blues, payola blues
Im paying those payola blues
No matter where I go
I never hear my record on the radio.
song performed by by Neil Young
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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S.o.s.
(They found her body right under the stairs
Where it had lain for twenty years,
The neck was broken, I heard folks say -
'Too late! ' was the verdict of Gallows Bay) .
* * * *
I'd heard dark things of Samuel Pell,
He drank too much and was far from well,
But he walked the beach in the early morn,
Especially after a gale, or storm.
He checked the flotsam as in it swirled
Into the bay from the seas of the world,
All the jetsam he'd pile up high,
And check each mark, with many a sigh.
But never a word did I hear him speak
From the crack of dawn to the end of the week,
And then he'd hurry on home once more
Where he'd bar his window and lock his door.
He lived in a three-roomed beachside shack
With a lookout room that he'd built out back,
And up to that room he would creep at nights,
With the curtains drawn, you could still see lights.
Red lights, yellow, and some were green
They'd blink and change with a squeal, a scream,
And over all was a dreadful hum
As the world swirled through his solarium.
Towering over the roof, at last
Was a big, old fashioned radio mast,
And folks would grumble in Gallows Bay
'Old Pell's up talking to Mandalay.'
The folks who knew him from times before
Would shake their heads, but would say no more,
For everyone knew that his only son
Was lost at sea when the war was on.
And Pell had been on the Ham that day,
An S.O.S. from a world away
Came tumbling over the ocean's swell
From His Majesty's Ship, the 'Camberwell.'
So Pell had alerted the Naval Base
As the tears streamed over his cheeks, his face,
His fingers flew on the dit-dit-dit
'Til his fingers bled, and his eyes were lit.
But somewhere, in the Atlantic swell
The bow went down of the 'Camberwell',
She slid so silently into the deep,
Carried his son to eternal sleep.
Carried him down with the ship, distressed
Where a sailor's duties are put to rest,
While Pell sat there with his headphones on
His wife had cursed him to hell and beyond.
And then she'd gone, one lonely night
Had left the bay and the daily fight,
Just walked, he'd said, with never a word
Though whether she had, he wouldn't have heard.
For twenty years he'd listened first
To the chatter of Morse at a hundred Hertz,
Then clattered his key to the whole world round:
'Has HMS Camberwell ever been found? '
I watched him, suddenly old and grey
As he walked the beach in his aimless way,
And heard them talk in the old Bar One's,
'I'm hearing that Pell has Parkinson's! '
He stiffened up, and he slowed his walk,
His shoulders hunched, and he couldn't talk,
He beckoned, come to his room up there,
He needed help just to climb the stair.
His hands were trembling on the key,
I knew Morse Code as well as he,
His fingers trembled, he made mistakes
With the dits and dahs, and the sentence breaks.
But in his eyes was the strangest light
Like a man who's suddenly proven right,
He handed over the headphones then
And smiled at me like an old, old friend.
I heard the chatter repeat, and then
Begin the message all over again,
It said: 'Keep listening here, it's true,
For soon I'm coming on home for you! '
The Morse was echoing in and out
Like a message sent from a waterspout,
It waxed and waned, and said: 'It's true!
Old man... I'm coming on home for you! '
He took the headphones, took the key
Was calm at first, more calm than me,
Then tapped a message I could not guess,
Old Pell was tapping an S.O.S.
For then a sound like I'd never heard,
Such beating, just like the wings of a bird,
Old Pell fell back on the old arm rest,
His heart was beating right out of his chest.
His heart was beating, his fingers tapped,
The dits and dahs, they flew, he rapped,
But coming over the headphone swell,
The message was signed - 'HMS Hell! '
He groaned, stared right in my eyes, in fright
His jaw had dropped and his face was white,
He died, and I thought that his soul was free
Though his fingers kept tapping the paddle key.
The paddle key, still tapped in my head,
For minutes then after Pell was dead,
And still I heard - and this I must stress -
The key kept tapping out S.O.S.
9 October 2008
poem by David Lewis Paget
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5. 8. 6.
I see danger
On the corner sent by me
Shadows the ways
Straight away you ran from me
I heard you calling
Yes, I heard you calling
I heard you calling
Yes, I heard you calling
I hear silence
I hear silence in my heart [house]
From a distance
Turn your back and run [hide] from me
Heard you calling
Yes, I heard you calling
Heard you calling
Yes, I heard you calling
When it happens
You will be no friend of mine
Take the first chance
When I am no longer free
Heard you calling
Yes, I heard you calling
Heard you calling
Yes, I heard you calling
In the future
When you want me in your heart
I wont be there [help you]
If you call out in the dark
Heard you calling
Yes, I heard you calling
Heard you calling
Oh yes I heard you, heard you, heard you, heard you calling
Can you hear me deep inside
From these feelings I cant hide
Can you hear me deep inside
From these feelings I cant hide
Oh, can you hear me deep inside
From these feelings I cant hide
Can you hear me calling you (4x)
song performed by by New Order
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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