Looks like my baby dont live here no more ...thats alright, ive still got my guitar.... ...........................(more lyrics).................. i might as well go back over yonder, way back across the hills, if my baby dont love me no more.... i know her...sister will
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Nature gets credit which should in truth be reserved for ourselves: the rose for its scent, the nightingale for its song; and the sun for its radiance. The poets are entirely mistaken. They should address their lyrics to themselves and should turn them into odes of self congratulation on the excellence of the human mind.
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I hope that one or two immortal lyrics will come out of all this tumbling around.
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We covered 'Hey, Jude.' My father panicked, misunderstanding the lyrics and thinking our lead singer was belting out 'Hey, Jew' to a roomful of Holocaust survivors.
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I've never heard such corny lyrics, such simpering sentimentality, such repetitious uninspired melody. Man, we've got a hit on our hands.
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I'll be the harmony to every lonely song you learn to play.
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A good idea for lyrics and a melody to expand on.
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After that, I specifically started writing lyrics. I would like sweat and think and get it all together.
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Life is like a beautiful melody, only the lyrics are messed up.
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If your life had lyrics, would they be any good?
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