user image

"What divine music she lured out of the old violin--merry and sad, gay and sorrowful by turns, music such as the stars of morning might have made singing together, music that the fairies might have danced to in their revels among the green hills or on yellow sands, music that might have mourned over the grave of a dead hope. Then she drifted into a still sweeter strain. As he listened to it he rea...

bookmarks:
listography GIVE A GIFT OF MEMORIES
FAVORITE LISTOGRAPHY MENTIONS
IMPORTANT NOTICES
MESSAGES
PRIVACY
list icon
  • Every stoplight I didn't make. Every chance I did or I didn't take. All the nights I went too far. All the girls that broke my heart. All the doors that I had to close. All the things I knew but I didn't know. Thank God for all I missed, Cause it led me here to this.
  • It's always been about me, myself, and I thought relationships were nothing but a waste of time. I never wanted to be anybody's other half. I was happy saying I had love that wouldn't last. That was the only way I knew 'til I met you.
  • Careful you don't catch her, Give her right of way. For she will look upon you and steal your soul away. For the white hare is calling, She's dancing in the night. She'll be out 'til the morning with her eyes burning bright.
  • What did I promise when I departed? I said that when the bullets flew, that I'd return just like the blackbird, safe back to share my whole life with you.
  • You'll walk unscathed through musket fire, No ploughman's blade will cut thee down, No cutless wound will mark thy face, And you will be my ain true love. And as you walk through death's dark veil, The cannon's thunder can't prevail, And those who hunt thee down will fail, And you will be my ain true love.
  • Crying all alone under the stands was a piccolo player in a marching band and one name read and nobody really cared, but a pretty little girl with a bow in her hair. I cried, never going to hold the hand of another guy. Too young for him they told her waiting for the love of a traveling soldier. Our love will never end, waiting for the soldier to come back again. Never going to be alone when the letter read "Soldier's coming home."
  • Three fishers went sailing out into the west, out into the west as the sun went down. Each thought of the woman that loves him the best and the children stood watching them out of the town. For men must work and woman must weep for there's little to earn and many to keep. And the harbour bar be moaning.
jul 9 2011 ∞
aug 29 2011 +