Slim silly fingers betray me
Pain in them silently slaying
Amethyst goals denied delaying
Saddest song in mind playing
Mahogany dreams carry me
Sandy hopes to be pain free
So if this be the last song I sing,
Let it be more beautiful and haunting
Than anything I have performed on this earth before.
Let the open night echo my words
In pity
For no one will ever respond anymore.
Let my unanswered call
Coil the chain around my neck and restrain me to this branch
As I break the silence of my lonely demise.
I sing, not to be heard,
But to remind myself that I am it:
This is the end.
Hear the echo. Isn’t it beautiful?
To hear the voice of death.
Perhaps it sounds familiar; like the voice of a friend…
How many songs, howls and cries have you heard,
Unaware that there will never be another one like it again?
I am alone in a world filled with life.
Life that is collapsing in on itself.
I was born dead.
But at least then I was not alone.
Now, I sing with the diminishing hope that someone will answer.
But I know Death will sooner reach me.
And when that happens
I will be free.
She wore necklaces of coral,
strings of pearls embracing her body,
glinting back at the broken sunlight
scattered across the sea floor.
Her glassy eyes gazed up,
somewhat worried, somewhat mournful,
longing to leap above the waves,
to sing that chorus of birds passing by.
Longing for her voice to take flight,
uninterrupted by ships sailing by.
She wasn't born a killer;
just cursed with a shadow of death;
and a sea that washed her bloody hands.
I played my part, I gave my best,
Yet unlike me, you did it effortless,
No trophy to hold or prize to claim
Just empty hands and an echo of shame.
I stand beside the constant cheers for your glory, left alone in my own forlorn story.
You smiled as if it were just fate,
As if my losses were yours to take.
My injured hands bear toil and pain, while yours stay soft with effortless gain.
Yearning for first place, yet always falling at your grace,
While my resilience was forced to fade without a trace.
The winner takes it all, the loser has to fall.
It’s simple and it’s plain— so why should I complain?
Yesterday, I saw you on the street with the one you chose over me. I hid my face. I didn’t know if I was scared or embarrassed. You smiled at her, the same smile that you gave me when you used it. I couldn’t breathe. I was flying, but you were lying.
How could you tell me that you loved me if it wasn’t true at all? Does she make you feel brand new? Like you said that I used to, Would she be there if you were to fall? I would’ve given you my all.
Today, I’m going to have to clear my mind find things to do with my time. I run across the picture from that day so I tell myself I’m OK as I’m crying, but I was lying.
How could you tell me that you loved me if it wasn’t true at all? Does she make you feel brand new? Like you said that I used to. would she be there if you were to fall? I would have given you my all.
Can you hear the whispers
brought on by the wind storming?
Carried true by the harpers,
the tale the howls are forming?
Came a knock at the farmer's door,
a mailed fist with a fate to turn.
A sob, a wail, a call to war,
a boy, a son, home soon to yearn.
Soon a soldier strode from youth,
to the beat of the king's drum.
A shield his hide, a sword his tooth,
his pack stood the night to come.
Oh for the heroes of men,
the ones who hold the line -
oh for the kin behind,
the ones who hold to hope.
Silence broke to a thunderous horn,
the battle joined with the savage horde.
On a bloody tide he thus was borne,
death he granted and fury he roared.
Silence returned with a blade's sigh,
sanguine as it was ripped away.
A keen, a dirge, a mother's cry,
a man, a son, home soon to lay.
Oh for the heroes of men,
the ones who hold the line -
oh for the kin behind,
the ones who hold to hope.
A place to rest he was given,
a peace he has not taken.
To guard, to serve he is driven,
his will, his resolve unshaken.
So when you see a warrior's mound,
shed not a tear to hear the bugle -
hark rather the marching sound,
for he yet walks the vigil.
I sing a sad song for the cold, lonely
Moments no one will admit to aloud.
I sing a sad song for all of the broken promises
Made with thoughtless illusions.
I sing a sad song for the faces pressing
Against the window panes in longing.
I sing a sad song for wild anticipation
Of days with happy endings that never come.
I sing a sad song for the telephone
that never rings enough.
I sing a sad song for all of those who
Waste time singing sad songs...
Like you and
Me!
I Sing A Sad Song
I sing a sad song for the cold, lonely
Moments no one will admit to aloud.
I sing a sad song for all of the broken promises
Wrought by circumstances beyond anyone's control.
I sing a sad song for the faces pressing
Against the window panes in longing.
I sing a sad song for wild anticipation
Of days that never come.
I sing a sad song for the telephone
That never rings enough.
I sing a sad song for dreams woven of
Hopeless illusions.
I sing a sad song for all of those who
Waste time, singing sad songs!
Cynthia
7-8-2011 Sad Song better
Today I heard a sad song that reminded me of long ago,
Gazing for hours into a reflecting pool, I saw myself playing the fool,
My tears would fall as does the rain during a heavy storm,
My image was scattered and broken in the mirrored glass from a long time ago,
While trying to find a future in the past I noticed bright smiles, which turned to many for miles,
I was educated that I can find myself more in others,by just taking a chance ,
I found that I was not alone, I found where I could belong,
Now and again I go back to the reflecting pool,
Which I see myself, much clearer than before.
Sing a sad song when your face is long,
Sing for the birds sitting in the birches up high.
Sing a sad song when your face is long
sing a sad song for the sea.
Because you know when you are down
and you shouldn't really frown
no, for that brings the sad in everyone, you see?
Sing a song when you are alone,
sing a song to the sky.
When you project out your voice
you bring your faith in rejoice.
It comes from the soul, it comes from within.
So don't sit aroud being silent in solitude,
no get up on your feet and sing another song again.
Sing sing sing,
sing a song again.
Sing with the wind, sing with the crowd
sing for the people who listen.
Sing for the town, sing for all joy
sing for yourself and for each girl and boy
The winter has grown very old.
She is lonely and depressed.
Only the younger son helps her,
The modest and timid young man,
Dressed in a unfashionable coat.
He is hopelessly in love with the lovely Spring.
February, February, my sad boy!
Your destiny is unlucky:
Every year, when you go away
Nobody is sad or misses you,
And nobody cries bitterly about you,
Nobody take your hand tenderly.
Having you all for myself
was my wildest fantasy
that turned in deep jeoulosy;
and I still recall
the sweet words you said;
and the happiest smile
that made me so weak inside!
Beyond my belief,
you took me where no heart could go;
and despite my infatuation
you didn't give into temptation...
to love another man
who could have given you more;
how glad I am that you resisted all that,
and made me the center of your attention!
Oh,I am so empty and sad inside
longing for lips to kiss...
thinking of the woman I deceived
with my demanding kisses;
but sleep won't come easily,
and I curse the dakness
for the pain and loneliness
I have brought on myself!
Oh, I am so empty and sad inside
dreaming and sleeping alone,
wanting to touch your skin...
by remembering how how long
and tender my nights were!
Oh, I am so empty and sad inside...
wishing of being closer together...loving,
you against me...naked and willing!
your
Oh, I am so s
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