Musical Box
Play me "Old King Cole"
that I may join with you,
all your hearts now seem so far from me
it hardly seems to matter now.
And the nurse will tell you lies
of a Kingdom beyond the skies.
But I'm lost within this half-world,
it hardly seems to matter now.
Play me my song,
here it comes again.
Play me my song,
here it comes again.
Just a little bit,
just a little bit more time,
time left to live out my life.
Play me my song,
here it comes again.
Play me my song,
here it comes again.
Old King Cole was a merry ould soul,
and a merry old soul was he.
So he called for his pipe,
and he called for his bowl,
and he called the his fiddlers three.
And the clock, tick tock,
on the mantlepiece,
and I want,
and I fell,
and I know,
and I touch the wall.
She's a lady, she's got time.
Brush back you hair, and let me get to know your face.
She's a lady, she's mine.
Brush back you hair, and let me get to know your flesh.
I've been waiting here for so long
and all this time that passed me by.
It doesn't seem to matter now.
You stand there with your fixed expression
casting doubt on all I have to say.
Why don't you touch me, touch me?
Why don't you touch me, touch me?
Touch me now, now now, now, now ...
The musical box:
While Henry Hamilton-Smythe minor (8) was playing croquet with Cynthia Jane De Blaise-William (9), sweet smiling Cynthia
raised her mallet high and gracefully removed Henry's head. Two weeks later, in Henry's nursery, she discovered his treasured
musical box. Eagerly she opened it and as "Old King Cole" began to play, a small spirit-figure appeared. Henry had returned -
but not for long, for as he stood into the room his body began ageing rapidly, leaving a child's mind inside. A lifetime's desires
surged through him. Unfortunately the attempt to persuade Cynthia Jane to fulfill his romantic desire led his nurse to the
nursery to investigate the noise. Instinctively she hurled the musical box at the bearded child, destroying both
song performed by by Genesis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
The Musical Box
While henry hamilton-smythe minor (8) was playing croquet with cynthia jane de blaise-william (9), sweet-smiling cynthia raised her mallet high and gracefully removed henrys head. two weeks lat
N henrys nursery, she discovered his treasured musical box. eagerly she opened it and as old king cole began to play, a small spirit- figure appeared. henry had returned - but not f
Ng, for as he stood in the room his body began ageing rapidly, leaving a childs mind inside. a lifetimes desires surged through him. unfortunately the attempt to persuade cynthia jane to fulfi
S romantic desire led his nurse to the nursery to investigate the noise. instinctively nanny hurled the musical box at the bearded child, destroying both.
Play me old king cole
That I may join with you,
All your hearts now seem so far from me
It hardly seems to matter now.
And the nurse will tell you lies
Of a kingdom beyond the skies.
But I am lost within this half-world,
It hardly seems to matter now.
Play me my song.
Here it comes again.
Play me my song.
Here it comes again.
Just a little bit,
Just a little bit more time,
Time left to live out my life.
Play me my song.
Here it comes again.
Play me my song.
Here it comes again.
Old king cole was a merry old soul,
And a merry old soul was he.
So he called for his pipe,
And he called for his bowl,
And he called for his fiddlers three.
But the clock, tick-tock,
On the mantlepiece -
And I want, and I feel, and I know, and I touch,
Her warmth...
Shes a lady, shes got time,
Brush back your hair, and let me get to know your face.
Shes a lady, she is mine.
Brush back your hair, and let me get to know your flesh.
Ive been waiting here for so long
And all this time has passed me by
It doesnt seem to matter now
You stand there with your fixed expression
Casting doubt on all I have to say.
Why dont you touch me, touch me,
Why dont you touch me, touch me,
Touch me now, now, now, now, now...
song performed by by Genesis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Musical Box
While henry hamilton-smythe minor (8) was playing croquet with cynthia jane de blaise-william (9), sweet-smiling cynthia raised her mallet high and gracefully removed henrys head. two weeks lat
N henrys nursery, she discovered his treasured musical box. eagerly she opened it and as old king cole began to play, a small spirit- figure appeared. henry had returned - but not f
Ng, for as he stood in the room his body began ageing rapidly, leaving a childs mind inside. a lifetimes desires surged through him. unfortunately the attempt to persuade cynthia jane to fulfi
S romantic desire led his nurse to the nursery to investigate the noise. instinctively nanny hurled the musical box at the bearded child, destroying both.
Play me old king cole
That I may join with you,
All your hearts now seem so far from me
It hardly seems to matter now.
And the nurse will tell you lies
Of a kingdom beyond the skies.
But I am lost within this half-world,
It hardly seems to matter now.
Play me my song.
Here it comes again.
Play me my song.
Here it comes again.
Just a little bit,
Just a little bit more time,
Time left to live out my life.
Play me my song.
Here it comes again.
Play me my song.
Here it comes again.
Old king cole was a merry old soul,
And a merry old soul was he.
So he called for his pipe,
And he called for his bowl,
And he called for his fiddlers three.
But the clock, tick-tock,
On the mantlepiece -
And I want, and I feel, and I know, and I touch,
Her warmth...
Shes a lady, shes got time,
Brush back your hair, and let me get to know your face.
Shes a lady, she is mine.
Brush back your hair, and let me get to know your flesh.
Ive been waiting here for so long
And all this time has passed me by
It doesnt seem to matter now
You stand there with your fixed expression
Casting doubt on all I have to say.
Why dont you touch me, touch me,
Why dont you touch me, touch me,
Touch me now, now, now, now, now...
song performed by by Genesis
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Play
I could wait all night and day,
To go to a party sit down and wait,
Give my request to the DJ,
Cuz my song hes gotta play.
And when i hear that beat,
I get my body up out my seat
I grab a guy and move my feet,
He's playin my song!
Play,
Come on play that song,
Play it all night long,
Just turn it up and turn it on!
Play,
Come on Dj play that song.
You know it turns me on.
(DJ just play that song)
Just turn it up and turn it on!
Dj just play that song,
Cuz i wanna be dancin all night long
Just play my, play my, play my,
Play my, play my favorite song!
I dont care if everybody's gone.
Turn it up cuz it turns me on.
Keep dancin all night long,
Feels so right that it cant be wrong.
I get chills up and down my spine,
Whenever I hear that song of mine.
When it stops better press rewind.
Let me hear it one more time!
Play,
Come on play that song,
Play it all night long,
Cuz I wanna be dancin' all night long!
Play,
Come on Dj play that song.
You know it turns me on.
(DJ just play that song)
Cuz I wanna be dancin' all night long!
I just wanna dance.
Is that a crime?
Alright then.
Play..Play..Play..Play..Play
Now Mr. DJ,
I've asked you three times..
Play My Mother f*ckin song!!
Play,
Come on play that song,
Play it all night long,
Just turn it up and turn it on!
Play,
Come on Dj play that song.
You know it turns me on.
(DJ just play that song)
Just turn it up and turn it on
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Old And Young
LONG ago, on a bright spring day,
I passed a little child at play;
And as I passed, in childish glee
She called to me, “Come and play with me!”
But my eyes were fixed on a far-off height
I was fain to climb before the night;
So, half-impatient, I answered, “Nay!
I am too old, too old to play.”
Long, long after, in Autumn time—
My limbs were grown too old to climb—
I passed a child on a pleasant lea,
And I called to her, “Come and play with me!”
But her eyes were fixed on a fairy-book;
And scarce she lifted a wondering look,
As with childish scorn she answered, “Nay!
I am too old, too old to play!”
poem by Francis William Bourdillon
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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Only A Northern Song
If you're listening to this song
You may think the chords are going wrong
But they're not;
He just wrote it like that.
It doesn't really matter what chords i play
What words i say or time of day it is
As it's only a northern song
It doesn't really matter what clothes i wear
Or how i fare or if my hair is brown
When it's only a northern song.
When you're listening late at night
You may think the band are not quite right
But they are, they just play it like that
It doesn't really matter what chords i play
What words i say or time of day it is
As it's only a northern song.
It doesn't really matter what clothes i wear
Or how i fare or if my hair is brown
When it's only a northern song.
If you think the harmony
Is a little dark and out of key
You're correct, there's nobody there.
It doesn't really matter what chords i play
What words i say or time of day it is
And i told you there's no one there.
song performed by by Beatles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Variations of an Air
Old King Cole
Was a merry old soul
And a merry old soul was he
He called for his pipe
and he called for his bowl
and he called for his fiddlers three
after Lord Tennyson
Cole, that unwearied prince of Colchester,
Growing more gay with age and with long days
Deeper in laughter and desire of life
As that Virginian climber on our walls
Flames scarlet with the fading of the year;
Called for his wassail and that other weed
Virginian also, from the western woods
Where English Raleigh checked the boast of Spain,
And lighting joy with joy, and piling up
Pleasure as crown for pleasure, bade me bring
Those three, the minstrels whose emblazoned coats
Shone with the oyster-shells of Colchester;
And these three played, and playing grew more fain
Of mirth and music; till the heathen came
And the King slept beside the northern sea.
after W.B. Yeats
Of an old King in a story
From the grey sea-folk I have heard
Whose heart was no more broken
Than the wings of a bird.
As soon as the moon was silver
And the thin stars began,
He took his pipe and his tankard,
Like an old peasant man.
And three tall shadows were with him
And came at his command;
And played before him for ever
The fiddles of fairyland.
And he died in the young summer
Of the world's desire;
Before our hearts were broken
Like sticks in a fire.
after Walt Whitman
Me clairvoyant,
Me conscious of you, old camarado,
Needing no telescope, lorgnette, field-glass, opera-glass, myopic pince-nez,
Me piercing two thousand years with eye naked and not ashamed;
The crown cannot hide you from me,
Musty old feudal-heraldic trappings cannot hide you from me,
I perceive that you drink.
(I am drinking with you. I am as drunk as you are.)
I see you are inhaling tobacco, puffing, smoking, spitting
(I do not object to your spitting),
You prophetic of American largeness,
You anticipating the broad masculine manners of these States;
I see in you also there are movements, tremors, tears, desire for the melodious,
I salute your three violinists, endlessly making vibrations,
Rigid, relentless, capable of going on for ever;
They play my accompaniment; but I shall take no notice of any accompaniment;
I myself am a complete orchestra.
So long.
poem by G.K. Chesterton
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Variations of an Air
Old King Cole
Was a merry old soul
And a merry old soul was he
He called for his pipe
and he called for his bowl
and he called for his fiddlers three
after Lord Tennyson
Cole, that unwearied prince of Colchester,
Growing more gay with age and with long days
Deeper in laughter and desire of life
As that Virginian climber on our walls
Flames scarlet with the fading of the year;
Called for his wassail and that other weed
Virginian also, from the western woods
Where English Raleigh checked the boast of Spain,
And lighting joy with joy, and piling up
Pleasure as crown for pleasure, bade me bring
Those three, the minstrels whose emblazoned coats
Shone with the oyster-shells of Colchester;
And these three played, and playing grew more fain
Of mirth and music; till the heathen came
And the King slept beside the northern sea.
after W.B. Yeats
Of an old King in a story
From the grey sea-folk I have heard
Whose heart was no more broken
Than the wings of a bird.
As soon as the moon was silver
And the thin stars began,
He took his pipe and his tankard,
Like an old peasant man.
And three tall shadows were with him
And came at his command;
And played before him for ever
The fiddles of fairyland.
And he died in the young summer
Of the world's desire;
Before our hearts were broken
Like sticks in a fire.
after Walt Whitman
Me clairvoyant,
Me conscious of you, old camarado,
Needing no telescope, lorgnette, field-glass, opera-glass, myopic pince-nez,
Me piercing two thousand years with eye naked and not ashamed;
The crown cannot hide you from me,
Musty old feudal-heraldic trappings cannot hide you from me,
I perceive that you drink.
(I am drinking with you. I am as drunk as you are.)
I see you are inhaling tobacco, puffing, smoking, spitting
(I do not object to your spitting),
You prophetic of American largeness,
You anticipating the broad masculine manners of these States;
I see in you also there are movements, tremors, tears, desire for the melodious,
I salute your three violinists, endlessly making vibrations,
Rigid, relentless, capable of going on for ever;
They play my accompaniment; but I shall take no notice of any accompaniment;
I myself am a complete orchestra.
So long.
poem by Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Croquet by Moonlight
On a moonlight evening, in the month of May,
A number of young people were playing at croquet,
They mingled together, the bashful with the gay,
And had a pleasant time and chat, while playing at croquet.
CHORUS:
This play they call croquet, croquet,
This play they call croquet,
It is amusement for the young,
This play they call croquet.
On that pleasant evening, the moon shone clear and bright,
And every heart among that crowd was filed with great delight.
It was a merry party, for lady Dell was there
Her merry laugh above the rest was heard by all, so fair.
CHORUS: This play, etc.
She was the belle that evening, admired by great and small,
And all the boys liked to play with the girl and blue ball.
She was a splendid player, so lively and so gay,
For she was skilled in playing that pleasant game croquet.
CHORUS: This play, etc.
Two young men among them, that loved this pretty Dell;
Although I write about them, their names I will not tell.
They were fine young fellows, so bashful, and yet so gay;
They tried to beat the girl that with the blue ball play.
CHORUS: This play, etc.
Ah! with those handsome fellows, Dell thought she'd have some fun,
"The one of you that'll catch me, may see me safely home."
The play began in earnest, between those fine young men,
To catch the girl with the blue ball, was impossible for them.
CHORUS: This play, etc.
She went around the play-ground, so full of life and gay,
She left them at the farther arch, so she beat them at croquet.
It was late that evening, and as I went away,
I know not how they came out, in that pleasant game, croquet.
CHORUS: This play, etc.
So croquet by moonlight is pleasant, as you see,
For business cares were laid aside, in that little company.
So playing at croquet, croquet, so playing at croquet,
It is amusement for the young folks, this play of croquet.
poem by Julia A Moore
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Touch Me When We're Dancing
Touch Me When We're Dancin': Alabama
Play us a song we can slow dance on.
We want to hold eachother.
Play us a groove so we hardly move.
Just let our hearts be together.
Oh baby, cause it feels so good
when we're close like this.
Whisper in my ear and let me steal the tears.
Come on and touch me when we're dancin
You know you've got that lovin touch
Oh oh touch me when we're dancin
I want to feel you when I'm falling in love
Tonights the night and it feels so right
What my heart's saying to me
You're the one and I've waited so long
So let your love flow thru me
Oh baby cause it feels so good we can be this close
You got me up so high
I could fly coast to coast
Come on and touch me when we're dancin
You know you've got that lovin touch
Oh oh touch me when we're dancin
I want to feel you when I'm falling in love.
song performed by by Alabama
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On the other shore of my song Original by Rabindranath Tagore
You are standing on the other shore of my song
The waves of my music touch your fair and bare feet
But I can not touch you and I can guess what’s wrong!
The wind is pretty strong somehow
Don’t be late; please sail your boat now
Anchor your boat in my heart right where you belong.
You are standing on the other shore of my song
The waves of my music touch your fair and bare feet
But I can not touch you and I can guess what’s wrong!
The game of song that I play with you
It makes me sad and it’s nothing new!
When will you take my flute of love
And play it to charm me enough
In the darkness full of happiness all night long?
You are standing on the other shore of my song
The waves of my music touch your fair and bare feet
But I can not touch you and I can guess what’s wrong!
poem by Asif Andalib
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Funeral Song
You told me the song to play at your funeral
As if I can think that far ahead
I haven't even held your hand
or kissed your face
ran my fingers through your hair
or trailed them down your chest
i've never looked in your eyes
and told you that i love you
your touch I've never felt
nor the warmth of your body on mine
But you told me the song to play at your funeral
A grand assumption don't you think
poem by Alien Girl
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Andante, Andante
Take it easy with me, please
Touch me gently like a summer evening breeze
Take your time, make it slow
Andante, andante
Just let the feeling grow
Make your fingers soft and light
Let your body be the velvet of the night
Touch my soul, you know how
Andante, andante
Go slowly with me now
Im your music
(I am your music and I am your song)
Im your song
(I am your music and I am your song)
Play me time and time again and make me strong
(play me again cause youre making me strong)
Make me sing, make me sound
(you make me sing and you make me)
Andante, andante
Tread lightly on my ground
Andante, andante
Oh please dont let me down
Theres a shimmer in your eyes
Like the feeling of a thousand butterflies
Please dont talk, go on, play
Andante, andante
And let me float away
Im your music
(I am your music and I am your song)
Im your song
(I am your music and I am your song)
Play me time and time again and make me strong
(play me again cause youre making me strong)
Make me sing, make me sound
(you make me sing and you make me)
Andante, andante
Tread lightly on my ground
Andante, andante
Oh please dont let me down
Make me sing, make me sound
(you make me sing and you make me)
Andante, andante
Tread lightly on my ground
Andante, andante
Oh please dont let me down
Andante, andante
Oh please dont let me down
song performed by by ABBA
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Touch Me
You touch me and the entire world is still.
The silence that your touch does bring
is like a magic pill.
You touch me and I still feel the thrill.
The feeling your touch does bring
takes away my chill.
The times you've touched me I remember well.
The soothing calmness that it gave
created love's sweet spell
that mystifies and beautifies
everything you are.
So every time you touch me
there is silence in my heart.
There's nothing in this world as sweet
that can play its part
like your touch.
So touch me.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hold Me
I've tried so many times 2 erase your memory from my mind
Yet, it doesn't ever last 4 long
I see your picture then I hear your voice
Our love must be stronger than before
Every time I see your eyes (Touch me)
Touch me (Hold me)
Every time I hear your voice (Touch me)
Hold me
Here I stand defenseless as I look into your eyes
There's nothing left 2 say or do
U fill my head with promises and all your pretty lies
Would it be so wrong 2 want U by my side?
Every time I see your eyes (Touch me)
Touch me (Hold me)
Every time I hear your voice (Touch me)
Touch me (Hold me)
I'm captured by my senses, lost in your reverie
Our love must be stronger than before
Every time I see your eyes (Touch me)
Oh, hold me, babe (Hold me)
Every time I hear your voice (Touch me)
Touch me (Hold me)
Every time I see your eyes (Touch me)
I wanna hold U, baby (Hold me)
(Hold me, touch me, kiss me all over)
Every time I hear your voice (Touch me)
Hold me, kiss me all over (Hold me)
Every time I see your eyes (Touch me)
Kiss me, baby (Hold me
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It's easy to play any musical instrument: all you have to do is touch the right key at the right time and the instrument will play itself.
quote by Johannes Sebastian Bach
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Touch Me When Were Dancing
Play us a song we can slow dance on
We want to hold each other
Play us a groove so we hardly move
Just let our hearts beat together
Oh baby, cause it feel so good
When were close like this
Whisper is my ear and let me steal a kiss
(*) come on and touch me
When were dancing
You know youve got that loving touch
(loving touch)
Touch me when were dancing
I want to feel you when Im falling in love
Tonights the night and it feels so right
My heart is saying it to me
Youre the one Ive waited for so long
So let your love flow through me
Oh baby, cause it feels so good
Just to be this close
Youve got me up so high
I could fly coast to coast
Repeat (*)
song performed by by Carpenters
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sorrow Song of a Soul
Hearts of a lonely person do cry a sorrow filled song
My heart shall cry my lyrics of a song of pain
Whilst hearts around do differ, Mine for longer grows stiffer as treated to love it is not.
Time we spend together I wish for once more
As my heart is ill, sick with desertion of a warm touch
As though a pain grips it tight within the talons of an eagle and death grabs it from the abyss.
My song is one of sad times filled with pain and hurt, dedication is a luxury kept from me
Musical accompaniment to my heart is your words, we can never be
As your heart submits to your mind, the minds of others to decide on yours.
It hurts me more to see you shamed as we can hold, kiss and touch though we cannot
And the only time we now see our hearts wish’s is when I see you in a dream
Touching my soul with a kiss, giving it life, to love you once again.
poem by Daniel Laurence
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Song
There is a song in my head.
It won't allow me to rest.
I still feel the melody playing in my breast.
The melody, the memory of your touch.
The harmony, the joy of my thighs and my lips,
As we welcomed you.
There is no music; I long for you,
Our dance and the movement of your hips.
The taste of you still lingers on the tip of my tongue.
We both sung this our beautiful song.
The senses have not forgotten you.
The song in my head, its like none I have heard.
It needs the music, that only you can play,
Gently on my back with your finger tips
Oh please give me peace.
Let us sing this song, I long for release.
There is a song in my head….
poem by Monciana Edmondson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Please Lady Please
Please lady please, do play our song
again, it isn’t over yet,
though I sometimes done you wrong,
those moments, lady, please forget.
I wanna hear our song again,
although you don’t feel close to me;
I’m not like all the other men
from whom you’ve vowed that you’d be free.
I wanna hold you one more time,
and play our song so you’ll recall
the times that you declared that I’m
the man for who you’d always fall.
Country music, old and new,
can never sound as good as tunes
we’ve sung together, me and you,
dawn, day and night, and afternoons.
Please lady, play our song, don’t think
about the bad things I have done;
remember how when we’re in sync
there’s more than two of us––we’re one.
Inspired by Olivia Newton John’s “Please Mister Please”:
In the corner of the bar there stands a jukebox
With the best of country music, old and new
You can hear your five selections for a quarter
And somebody else's songs when your's are through
I got good Kentucky whiskey on the counter
And my friends around to help me ease the pain
'Til some button-pushing cowboy plays that love song
And here I am just missing you again
Please, Mister, please, don't play B-17
It was our song, it was his song, but it's over
Please, Mister, please, if you know what I mean
I don't ever wanna hear that song again
If I had a dime for every time I held you
Though you're far away, you've been so close to me
I could swear I'd be the richest girl in Nashville
Maybe even in the state of Tennessee
But I guess I'd better get myself together
'Cause when you left, you didn't leave too much behind
Just a note that said 'I'm sorry' by your picture
And a song that's weighing heavy on my mind
Please, Mister, please, don't play B-17
It was our song, it was his song, but it's over
Please, Mister, please, if you know what I mean
I don't ever wanna hear that song again
3/30/08
poem by Gershon Hepner
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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