#song

Song for the Puberty Rite of a Girl Named Cowaka: A poor man takes the songs in his hand And drops them near the place where the sun sets. See, Cowaka, run to them and take them in your hand, And place them under the sunset. ↗

— Frances Densmore

#old-songs #path #music

I knew it was Peter playing. I fancied he was trying to tell me something - an absurd idea, but it persisted - 'I may not be able to spell, but just you listen to this. ↗

— Jennifer Paynter

#embarrassment #jane-austen #jennifer-paynter #love #mary-bennet

You can go a hundred miles a second Don't have to drive no lousy cab Got everything you want and more man And the King picks up the tab You walk around on streets of gold all day And you never have to listen To what these customers say and I know... ↗

— Marc Cohn

#music #savin-the-best-for-last #song-lyrics #music

...loading your brain with subliminal messages.... How loathsome to turn a sadistic murder into entertainment [in the newspaper] -- and yet how hard not to read about it. What dark comedy to realize that you are scanning for descriptions of torture as you disapprove. Which of course only makes it more entertaining. "But naturally I was hoping they'd report something grisly," you say to your friends, who chuckle lighthearted acknowledgment of hypocrisy. ↗

— Mary Gaitskill

#gaitskill #nature

Now, as I understand it, the bards were feared. They were respected, but more than that they were feared. If you were just some magician, if you'd pissed off some witch, then what's she gonna do, she's gonna put a curse on you, and what's gonna happen? Your hens are gonna lay funny, your milk's gonna go sour, maybe one of your kids is gonna get a hare-lip or something like that — no big deal. You piss off a bard, and forget about putting a curse on you, he might put a satire on you. And if he was a skilful bard, he puts a satire on you, it destroys you in the eyes of your community, it shows you up as ridiculous, lame, pathetic, worthless, in the eyes of your community, in the eyes of your family, in the eyes of your children, in the eyes of yourself, and if it's a particularly good bard, and he's written a particularly good satire, then three hundred years after you're dead, people are still gonna be laughing, at what a twat you were. ↗

— Alan Moore

#artists-way #bard #irony #modernity-is-a-sickness #musicians

Don't criticize what you can't understand. ↗

— Bob Dylan

#criticism #song-lyrics #understanding

Different roads sometimes lead to the same castle. ↗

— George R.R. Martin

#diversity #song

We all shine on...like the moon and the stars and the sun...we all shine on...come on and on and on... ↗

— John Lennon

#immortality #moon #song-lyrics #stars #sun

Mirrors on the ceiling, The pink champagne on ice And she said 'We are all just prisoners here, of our own device' And in the master's chambers, They gathered for the feast They stab it with their steely knives, But they just can't kill the beast Last thing I remember, I was Running for the door I had to find the passage back To the place I was before 'Relax,' said the night man, 'We are programmed to receive. You can check out any time you like, But you can never leave ... ↗

— The Eagles

#california #gluttony #greed #shallowness #sin

Oh you're in my blood like holy wine You taste so bitter and so sweet Oh I could drink a case of you darling And I would still be on my feet Oh I would still be on my feet ↗

— Joni Mitchell

#song-lyrics