The Ballad Of Buckethead
Whos this guitar-playing sonsa bitch? , is a question common asked.
On his head a bucket of chicken bones, on his face a plaster mask.
Hes the bastard son of a preacher man, on the town he left a stain.
They made him live in a chicken house to try to and hide the shame.
He was born in a coop, raised in a cage. children fear him, critics rage.
Hes half alive, hes half dead. folks just call him buckethead.
Farmers would torment him as he snuggled with the hens.
Theyd hose him down with water, and steal his little friends.
Now late at night hed sneak off to the graveyard all alone,
And play a soapbox guitar to the faces made of stone.
Buckethead found his freedom at the age of 17,
When he burned the chicked house down with a quart of gasoline.
He did puppet shows on corners and bought a real guitar,
And with the help of colonel sanders, hes bound to be a star.
He was born in a coop, raised in a cage. children fear him, critics rage.
Hes half alive, hes half dead. folks just call him buckethead.
song performed by by Primus
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Related quotes
Escape.
Let me escape,
From my own machinations,
From my own bitter creations,
I feel like I am in an ice cage,
There's half water and half ice,
I am half frozen and half shaky,
I am half alive and half dead,
I feel like breaking through this cage,
My soul wants to runaway,
Breaking these walls,
Out of my isolation,
Out of my despair,
In this revolution,
Out of this confusion,
And escape,
Out of this hollowness,
Out of this pain, half endured and half erupting,
With this volcanic heart, aching hard,
Out of myself,
Out of this lava I breathe...
Out of this story, untold, unread,
And escape, just escape...
poem by Ayesha Riaz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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This Old Guitar And Me
This old guitar and me
And the things that we've been through
C.F. Martin built him
Back in nineteen fourty-two.
I remember when we met
I was only seventeen
I spent all my college money
On a half a dozen strings.
I thought my folks would kill me
I found out I was wrong
They said your future's written on your face
When you sing those travelin' songs.
So we headed for Kentucky
With a suitcase full of dreams
My rough-out books, a few t-shirts
A worn out pair of jeans.
Ooh.
This old guitar and me
We spent a lot of nights alone
Well, sometimes we'd get lucky
And take bar maid home.
One night stands for breakfast
Two strangers with the blues
We'd wake up in the morning
And both feel a little used.
Well, home was just a highway
We'd roam from town to town
Just me and that old flattop
Not caring where we're bound.
>From Maine to California
With a five piece travelin' band
Singin' songs about the hard times
That face the common man.
Ooh.
This old guitar and me
Lord, we did the best we could
One was born a sinner
And one a piece of wood.
God sent a wooden angel
To guide me on my way
We were meant to be together
Until my dyin' day.
Well, now my dearest old companion
Lies underneath my bed
Well, our travelin' days are over
Man, but the memories fill my head.
Well, I've settled with my family
Here in the hills of Tennessee
To teach my children's children
'Bout this old guitar and me.
Ooh...
song performed by by Vince Gill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Chicken and Other Foods
She is coming home tonight, been away for two days.
Bought her, what she likes… a well roasted chicken.
On the farm where I was brought up, old hens that
didn’t lay eggs as before had heads chopped off and
ended up in the pot. Incredible tough meat had to boil
it for hours. Never liked the smell in a chicken coop,
I think concentration camps must have stunk like that
too many bodies in small rooms and no escape.
The coop’s capo wasn’t safe either, when it didn’t
perform as before, off with its head. When she enjoys
her roasted chicken with lemon sauce I will eat a burger,
since it doesn’t look remotely like a dead animal and as
I have never seen a dead cow, only milked them every
morning at five, it will taste ok with Italian salad.
poem by Oskar Hansen
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Chicken Every Sunday
Just because all my dresses are just cotton hand-me-downs
This family calls me the lower class
Cause we're only poor folks on the other side of town
They won't let him walk up my path
But my mama says don't worry when they say those things about ye
You remember you're just as good as him
Just because they got that big house settin' way upon the hill
Why you don't have to look up to them
We've got chicken every Sunday and the preacher comes around
And every Saturday morning daddy takes us all to town
And we'd go to the picture show or picnics on the ground
Oh that's the lower class and I'm glad that's what I am
[ guitar ]
Cause my mama don't belong to the ladies social set
My daddy can't afford the country club
His folks look down on me and they don't let us date
Cause they think that I'm not good enough
But my mama says forgive him honey he ain't worthy of
And in anything you're too good for him
Just because they've got money and a big fine house
Well we won't take no self off of them
We've got chicken every Sunday...
We've got chicken every Sunday...
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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 Ride
Well I was thumbing my way from Montgomery
Had my guitar on my back
When a stranger pulled up beside me, in a antique Cadillac
He was dressed like 1950
Half drunk and hollow eyed
Said its a long walk to Nashville would you like a ride son?
Well I climbed up in the front seat
And he turned on the radio
And them sad old songs coming outta them speakers was solid country gold
Then I noticed the stranger was ghost white pale
When he asked me for a light
And I knew there was something strange about this ride
Chorus
He said drifter can you make folks cry when you play and sing
Have you paid your dues?
Can you moan the blues?
Can you bend them guitar strings?
He said boy can you make folks feel what you feel inside?
Cause if your big star bound let me warn you it's a long hard ride
He cried just south of Nashville
And he turned that car around
He said "this is where you get off boy"
'Cause I'm goin' back to Alabam'
Well I climbed outta that Cadillac
And I said mister many thanks
He said you don't have to call me mister, mister
The whole world calls me Hank
Chorus x2
He said drifter can you make folks cry when you play and sing
Have you paid your dues?
Can you moan the blues?
Can you bend them guitar strings?
He said boy can you make folks feel what you feel inside?
Cause if your big star bound let me warn you it's a long hard ride
Well if you're big star bound let me warn ya, its a long hard ride
If you're big star bound........let me warn ya
song performed by by Tim McGraw
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Half Breed
My father married a Cherokee
My mother's people were ashamed of me
The Indian's said that I was white by law
The white man always called me Indian Squaw
Half breed
Is all I ever heard
Half breed
Let me hate the word
Half breed
She's no good they warned
Both sides were against me since the day I was born
We never settled went from town to town
When you're not welcome you don't hang around
The other children always laughed at me
Give her a feather she's a Cherokee
Half breed
Is all I ever heard
Half breed
Let me hate the word
Half breed
She's no good they warned
Both sides were against me since the day I was born
We weren't accepted and I felt the shame
Fifteen I left and tell me whose to blame
My life since then has been from man to man
But I can't run away from what I am
Half breed
Is all I ever heard
Half breed
Let me hate the word
Half breed
She's no good they warned
Both sides were against me since the day I was born
Half breed
Is all I ever heard
Half breed
Let me hate the word
Half breed
She's no good they warned
Both sides were against me since the day I was born
song performed by by Shania Twain
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Musician
I don't like to brag,
And I never will.
But I play the guitar,
Like moonshiners play a still.
There really is nothing to it.
I'm just a guitar man.
I was born to play the six string,
And I've got a lot of fans.
You will never know me,
Because I am a lot of men.
Many names are in my pedigree,
A dozen men I've been.
I only play now, for my friends,
And for my family.
There is a sorrow that begins,
Inside my memory.
I have seen death, take my best friend,
I have been thrown in jail.
But I didn't want to let it end,
I did not want to fail.
But I finally threw it all away,
When I had reached the top.
I now live to loath the day,
I had to give it up.
It's just that I love my guitar,
On her I never learned to cheat.
And I never did stray very far,
And she made this guitar man complete.
She is gone now, twas my wrath,
And my son now loves her so.
And he is following my path,
His star is on the go.
10/13/10 vodka360 Alton Texas 9: 21 pm The musician signing off.
poem by Juan Olivarez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Half The World
Half the world lives,
Half the world makes,
Half the world gives
While the other half takes.
Half the world hates,
Half the world runs away,
Half the world's late,
Half the world praises the day.
Half the world is,
Half the world was,
Half the world thinks,
Half the world does.
Half the world lies,
Half the world burns,
Half the world cries
While the other half turns.
Half the world cares,
Half the world weeps,
Half the world shares,
Half the world keeps.
Half the world sings,
Half the world laughs,
Half the world brings,
Half the world tries to be the other half.
End.
Hes Alive
The gates and doors were barred
And all the windows fastened down
I spent the night in sleeplessness
And rose at every sound
Half in hope of sorrow
And half in fear the day
Would find the soldiers breakin through
To drag us all away
And just before the sunrise
I heard something at the wall
The gate began to rattle
And a voice began to call
I hurried to the window
Looked down into the street
Expecting swords and torches
And the sound of soldiers feet
But there was no one there but mary
So I went down to let her in
John stood there beside me
As she told me where shed been
She said theyve moved him in the night
And none of us know where
The stones been rolled away
And now his body isnt there
We both ran towards the garden
Then john ran on ahead
We found the stone and empty tomb
Just the way that mary said
But the winding sheet they wrapped him in
Was just an empty shell
And how or where theyd taken him
Was more than I could tell
Oh something strange had happened there
Just what I did not know
John believed a miracle
But I just turned to go
Circumstance and speculation
Couldnt lift me very high
cause Id seen them crucify him
Then I saw him die
Back inside the house again
The guilt and anguish came
Everything Id promised him
Just added to my shame
When at last it came to choices
I denied I knew his name
And even if he was alive
It wouldnt be the same
But suddenly the air was filled
With a strange and sweet perfume
Light that came from everywhere
Drove shadows from the room
And jesus stood before me
With his arms held open wide
And I fell down on my knees
And I just clung to him and cried
Then he raised me to my feet
And as I looked into his eyes
The love was shining out from him
Like sunlight from the skies
Guilt in my confusion
Disappeared in sweet release
And every fear I ever had
Just melted into peace
Hes alive yes hes alive
Yes hes alive and Im forgiven
Heavens gates are open wide
Hes alive yes hes alive
Oh hes alive and Im forgiven
Heavens gates are open wide
Hes alive hes alive
Hallelujah hes alive
Hes alive and Im forgiven
Heavens gates are open wide
Hes alive hes alive hes alive
I believe it hes alive
Sweet jesus
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Half A Man
This big old queen was standing on the corner of the street he waved his hanky at me as I went rolling by I pulled the truck up on the sidewalk and I climbed down from the cab with my tire-chain
My knife as I approached him he was trembling like a bird I raised the chain above my head he said, please, before you kill me might I have one final word? and this is what he said:
;i am but half a man, half a man Id like to be a dancer but Im much too large half a man, half a man Im an object for your pity not your rage oh, the strangest feelings sweeping over m
H my speech and manner have become much more refined I said, oh, what is this feeling? what is wrong with me? she said, girl, it happens all the time and you are half a m
Alf a man look, youre walking and youre talking like a fag. half a man, I am half a man holy jesus, what a drag
song performed by by Randy Newman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Caught who Court Death
Without the blessing of the Gods
with Death you wed.
Yet suicide remains at odds
with those who fear to greet the sods,
who Heaven's gates slam on the dead.
The dead anticipated not,
wait, arms outspread.
Fell leaves their souls which, half-forgot,
skirl, skittles in windy melting pot.
Paradise keeps tabs on age.
Narcissus, dead,
must wait in turn Who turns the page.
No joys, except that in his rage
he'll [s]wallow, outrage his own cage.
If of his face he took much heed,
unless he fed
in fount of Youth, to drown, what need?
On half-life echo, fippled reed,
why haste with such ill gotten speed,
last words repeating? Thus I plead,
Echo swift sped
tell me, beneath the tumbleweed,
art dove or parrot pedigreed?
You, ever lazy, somehow dare
his words to shred, -
Narcissus love, his fretful prayer,
to offer up he did not care.
Death valley sees him stray, despair,
Narcissus dead.
Echo, alive, plays on the air.
The self-same song unites them there,
they would have made a happy pair!
poem by Raymond Radiguet, translated by Jonathan Robin
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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Half The World
Words by neil peart, music by geddy lee and alex lifeson
Half the world hates
What half the world does every day
Half the world waits
While half gets on with it anyway
Half the world lives
Half the world makes
Half the world gives
While the other half takes
Half the world is
Half the world was
Half the world thinks
While the other half does
Half the world talks
With half a mind on what they say
Half the world walks
With half a mind to run away
Half the world lies
Half the world learns
Half the world flies
As half the world turns
Half the world cries
Half the world laughs
Half the world tries
To be the other half
Half of us divided like a torn-up photograph half of us are
Trying to reach the other half
Half the world cares
While half the world is wasting the day
Half the world shares
While half the world is stealing away
song performed by by Rush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I remember growing up always loving the guitar. I used to love to watch the people play on the Country Western shows on TV. My folks told me that when I was just a toddler, I used to pretend I was playing a guitar on a toothpick.
quote by Carl Wilson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Do You Want To Play House
Call me ready, call me ready or not
And Ill say yeah! yeah! yeah!
Give it all I got
Call me in the morning, when Im half asleep
Rivers runnin high on the mountain deep
Call me deadly, call me deadly serious
And Ill say yeah! yeah! yeah!
I couldnt care enough
Call me when you want to control the vice
Ill defend your honor when you roll the dice
Do you want to play house,do you want to play house
Playin in the house of love?
Do you want to play house,do you want to play house
Playin in the house,playin in the house of love
Call me over, call me over the top
And Ill say yeah! yeah! yeah!
Never wanna stop
Call me on hire when youre in your shell
Wanna be your fire, wanna ring your bell
Do you wanna play house, do you wanna play house
Playin in the house of love
Do you wanna play house, do you wanna play house,
Playin in the house, playin in the house of love?
Call me never, call me never say die
And Ill say yeah! yeah! yeah!
Take me alive
Call me undercover when you bake your bread
Wanna be your lover, wanna make your bed
Do you waana play house..........
(rankin, agnew)
Bob n weave music (dunfermline)
Copyright 1992 nazareth (dunfermline) ltd.
song performed by by Nazareth
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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Ghost In His Guitar
Down the drain pipe cross the yard and through the fence
I risked a whoopin' every time I went
'Cause white boys weren't allowed
On the colored side of town
But I was proud to call
That old black man my friend
He had a pillow by the bed he used to pray on
And a beat up old guitar he let me play on
I knew where my fingers went
From his greasy fingerprints
Yeah, he was passin' on
What was handed down to him
(Chorus)
And it soaked up all the blood and sweat and teardrops
And the beers he missed in smokey little bars
And sometimes that old man he comes alive in my hands
I feel the beating of his sad old broken heart
Just like there's a ghost in this guitar
A ghost in this guitar
Well, the night before he died he made me take it
He said, "You play it now, 'cause I gotta go"
And I can feel him in my fingers when I play it
'Cause sometimes I'm in control
And sometimes I just sit back
And let him go
Sit back and let him go
(Repeat Chorus)
Take a listen to the ghost in this guitar
song performed by by Keith Urban
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Billy Was A Picker
Billy was a picker on Saturday nights.
He’d lose himself in the neon lights.
He’d travel places he’d never been.
Even leave his body now and again.
He’d leave behind
The weekday grind
And soar.
You’re oh so cool, the folks’d say
You’re gonna be a star some day
And we’ll all say we knew you when.
And act like we’re your long lost friend.
And when you’re on TV
We’ll all get to be
There too.
And Billy began to believe the praise
He began to plan his life for the days
When every one would know his name
A life of glamour, fortune, and fame
And so he changed
And then arranged
His debut.
He hocked every single possession
And invested in a recording session
He was sure he’d wow them all
And then just wait for the calls
To come rolling in
They’ll call and then
STARDOM!
He booked the local concert hall
Every dime he had, he spent it all
And sure enough, he sold it out
(As if anyone had a doubt)
They knew he would
He was that good.
A picker.
See, Billy was a picker on Saturday nights.
He’d lose himself in the neon lights.
He’d travel places he’d never been.
Even leave his body now and again.
He’d leave behind
The weekday grind
And soar.
So then it came, on that hot June night
Billy and his guitar, were ready for flight
Billy and his guitar, took center stage
Billy and his guitar, were “all the rage”
Said his friends
And so begins
His ride.
But the critics weren’t nearly so kind
“He always plays one beat behind”
“As if he’s not part of the band”
“And frankly don’t think I could stand”
“Another minute”
“Hearts not in it”
“So sad”
And Billy never played another Saturday Night
He would no longer let his soul take flight
The critics were so wrong about one thing
His heart was in it when he’d pick and sing
And his heart
They’d killed it
And his voice
They’d stilled it
Forever.
poem by Gerry Leopard
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Young New Mexican Puppeteer
In a town near albequerqe
Lived a most concerned young boy
He said lately I have noticed
Folks dont live with peace and joy
With frowns and worry on their faces
Theyre lost and dont know where to go
He said Ill get the people straightened
By putting on a puppet show
The young new mexican puppeteer
He saw the people all lived in fear
He thought that maybe theyd listen to
A puppet telling them what to do
You know he got some string and he got some wood
He did some carving and he was good
And folks came running so they could hear
The young new mexican puppeteer
First he carved out young abe lincoln
Abe will teach em civil rights
Then a king named martin luther
So theyd recall his peacefull fight
Old mark twain, his wit and wisdom
Will surely show them life is fun
But he smiled with satisfaction
When the prince of peace was done
The young new mexican puppeteer
He saw the people all lived in fear
He thought that maybe theyd listen to
A puppet telling them what to do
You know he got some string and he got some wood
He did some carving and he was good
And folks came running so they could hear
The young new mexican puppeteer
Now his puppet shows were clever
And he made the people laugh
When he got across the message
To walk along lifes open path
They built him his own puppet theatre
Decked out with spotlights yellow and red
And then they wrote him up in all the papers
And this is what the story said
It said...
The young new mexican puppeteer
He saw the people all lived in fear
He thought that maybe they would listen to
A puppet telling them what to do
You know he got some string and he got some wood
He did some carving and he was good
And folks came running so they could hear
The young new mexican puppeteer
[repeat]
song performed by by Tom Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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