I Can Hear Music

by Jeff Barry

This is the way I only dreamed it could be
The way that it is when you are holding me
I never had a love of my own
Maybe that's why when we're all alone

I can hear music
I can hear music
Sounds of the city
Seem to disappear
I can hear music
Sweet, sweet music
Whenever you touch me
Whenever you're near

Loving you, it keeps me satisfied
And I can't explain the way I'm feeling inside
You look at me, we kiss and then
I close my eyes, and here it comes again

I can hear music
I can hear music
Sounds of the city
Seems to disappear
I can hear music
Sweet, sweet music
Whenever you touch me
Whenever you're near

The Song Is You

by Oscar Hammerstein II

I hear music when I look at you
A beautiful theme of every dream I ever knew
Down deep in my heart I hear it play
I feel it start, then it melts away

I hear music when I touch your hand
A beautiful melody from some enchanted land
Down deep in my heart, I hear it say
Is this the day?

I alone have heard this lovely strain
I alone have heard this glad refrain
Must it be forever inside of me?
Why can't I let it go?
Why can't I let you know?

Why can't I let you know
The song my heart would sing?
That beautiful rhapsody
Of love and youth and spring

The music is sweet
The words are true
The song is you

What Sweeter Music

by Robert Harrick

What sweeter music can we bring
Than a carol for to sing
The birth of this our heavenly King?
Awake the voice! Awake the string!

Dark and dull night, fly hence away
And give the honor to this day
That sees December turned to May
That sees December turned to May

Why does the chilling winter's morn
Smile like a field beset with corn?
Or smell like a meadow newly-shorn
Thus, on the sudden? Come and see

The cause, why things thus fragrant be:
'Tis He is born, whose quickening birth
Gives life and luster, public mirth
To heaven and the under-earth

We see him come, and know him ours
Who with his sunshine and his showers
Turns all the patient ground to flowers
Turns all the patient ground to flowers

The darling of the world is come
And fit it is we find a room
To welcome him: the nobler part
Of all the house here is the heart

Which we will give him and bequeath
This holly and this ivy wreath
To do him honour, who's our King
And Lord of all this revelling

What sweeter music can we bring
Than a carol for to sing
The birth of this our heavenly King?

Midwest Midnight

by Michael Stanley

With thirteen lovers I hid beneath the covers
Got staples in my hands for my time
With the radio low so the folks don't know
I proceed with my passionate crime

Though somewhat obtuse, I've been told this abuse
Will more than likely make me go blind
But with a heart that's aching, it's a risk worth taking
'Cause true love, they say, is so hard to find

Why can't she see what she's doing to me
If that bandstand girl only was here
And I'm living the dream, getting lost on the screen
Doing Presley in front of the mirror

Hanging around, getting high on the sounds
Of the ladies and electric guitars
Cross a double yellow line to who knows where
With six sets of glory a night in some bar

Midwest midnight
Ten thousand watts of holy light
From my radio so clear
Bodies glistening
Everybody's listening
As the man plays all the hits that you want to hear

With a will to believe, and my songs on my sleeve
If only I'd known from the start
Such a sensitive toy, for a suburban boy
Who believed he was suffering for art

Then something went wrong, and he watched as his songs
Met a slow death of silence, but worse
He was taken to task, by some critic who asked
'Do you write the words or lyrics first?'

I hear them calling
'Boy, you should be grateful
'To get your foot inside the door
'You know there's thousands out there
'Who would take your place
'This attitude of yours, my son,
'It lacks the due respect
'You bite the hand that feeds you
'Even if you're never fed'

Chasing the fame keeps them all in the game
But money's still the way they keep score
And nobody told you that you would get older
Strung out like some avenue whore

Waiting release, getting shot through the grease
Some L.A. madonna's maligned
And New York's calling just to see if you've heard
About the great English band they just signed

Take me back to midwest midnight
Ten thousand watts of holy light
From my radio so clear
Bodies glistening
Is anybody listening?
Does the man still play all the hits that you want to hear?

Fireflies and Songs

by Sara Groves

Thirty years ago I was a little child
Riding in the back seat of a car
A woman sang, 'You don't bring me flowers anymore'
I felt a sadness in my little heart

We're looking for the music
In the music box
Tearing it to pieces
Trying to find a song

I was drawn to you in ways I can't explain
I fought like crazy, but I couldn't stay away
Piled on expectations and lots of blame
Like we couldn't do it any other way

We're looking for a firefly
Moving through the night
Staring at that one place
Swear it never lights

Were you surprised our hearts were not like ticking clocks?
The faces and hands easy to read
We both wished, 'If only in the land of Oz'
And longed for things we'd never really need

Now we're standing in the kitchen
All pretense is gone
You kiss me on the shoulder
Fireflies and songs

Fat Old Sun

by David Gilmour

When that fat old sun in the sky is falling
Summer-evening birds are calling
Summer Sunday and a year
The sound of music in my ears

Distant bells, new-mown grass
Smells so sweet
By the river holding hands
Roll me up and lay me down

And if you see, don't make a sound
Pick your feet up off the ground
And if you hear as the warm night folds
The silver sound from a time so strange
Sing to me, sing to me

from Ulysses

by James Joyce
from Episode 11 — Sirens

Bronze by gold heard the hoofirons, steelyringing Imperthnthn thnthnthn.
Chips, picking chips off rocky thumbnail, chips.
Horrid! And gold flushed more.
A husky fifenote blew.
Blew. Blue bloom is on the.
Goldpinnacled hair.
A jumping rose on satiny breast of satin, rose of Castile.
Trilling, trilling: Idolores.
Peep! Who's in the... peepofgold?
Tink cried to bronze in pity.
And a call, pure, long and throbbing. Longindying call.
Decoy. Soft word. But look: the bright stars fade. Notes chirruping answer.
O rose! Castile. The morn is breaking.
Jingle jingle jaunted jingling.
Coin rang. Clock clacked.
Avowal. Sonnez. I could. Rebound of garter. Not leave thee. Smack. La cloche! Thigh smack. Avowal. Warm. Sweetheart, goodbye!
Jingle. Bloo.
Boomed crashing chords. When love absorbs. War! War! The tympanum.
A sail! A veil awave upon the waves.
Lost. Throstle fluted. All is lost now.
Horn. Hawhorn.
When first he saw. Alas!
Full tup. Full throb.
Warbling. Ah, lure! Alluring.
Martha! Come!
Clapclap. Clipclap. Clappyclap.
Goodgod henev erheard inall.
Deaf bald Pat brought pad knife took up.
A moonlit nightcall: far, far.
I feel so sad. P. S. So lonely blooming.
Listen!
The spiked and winding cold seahorn. Have you the? Each, and for other, plash and silent roar.
Pearls: when she. Liszt's rhapsodies. Hissss.
You don't?
Did not: no, no: believe: Lidlyd. With a cock with a carra.
Black. Deepsounding. Do, Ben, do.
Wait while you wait. Hee hee. Wait while you hee.
But wait!
Low in dark middle earth. Embedded ore.
Naminedamine. Preacher is he:
All gone. All fallen.
Tiny, her tremulous fernfoils of maidenhair.
Amen! He gnashed in fury.
Fro. To, fro. A baton cool protruding.
Bronzelydia by Minagold.
By bronze, by gold, in oceangreen of shadow. Bloom. Old Bloom.
One rapped, one tapped, with a carra, with a cock.
Pray for him! Pray, good people!
His gouty fingers nakkering.
Big Benaben. Big Benben.
Last rose Castile of summer left bloom I feel so sad alone.
Pwee! Little wind piped wee.
True men. Lid Ker Cow De and Doll. Ay, ay. Like you men. Will lift your tschink with tschunk.
Fff! Oo!
Where bronze from anear? Where gold from afar? Where hoofs?
Rrrpr. Kraa. Kraandl.
Then not till then. My eppripfftaph. Be pfrwritt.
Done.
Begin!

Ronnie and Neil

by Patterson Hood

Church blew up in Birmingham
Four little black girls killed
For no goddamn good reason
All this hate and violence
Can't come to no good end
A stain on the good name
A whole lot of good people
Dragged through the blood and glass
Blood stains on their good names
And all of us take the blame

Meanwhile in north Alabama
Wilson Pickett comes to town
To record that sweet soul music
To get that Muscle Shoals sound

Meanwhile in north Alabama
Aretha Franklin comes to town
To record that sweet soul music
To get that Muscle Shoals sound

And out in California
A rock star from Canada writes
A couple of great songs
About the bad shit that went down
'Southern Man' and 'Alabama'
Certainly told some truth
But there were a lot of good folks down here
And Neil Young just wasn't around

Meanwhile in north Alabama
Lynyrd Skynyrd comes to town
To record with Jimmy Johnson
And that Muscle Shoals Sound

And they met some real good people
Not no racist pieces of shit
And they wrote a song about it
And that song became a hit

Ronnie and Neil
Rock stars today ain't half as real
Speaking their minds on how they feel
Let them guitars blast for Ronnie and Neil

Now Ronnie and Neil became good friends
Their feud was just in song
Skynyrd was a bunch of Neil Young fans
And Neil he loved that song
So he wrote 'Powderfinger'
For Skynyrd to record
But Ronnie ended up singing
'Sweet Home Alabama' to the Lord

And Neil helped carry Ronnie
In his casket to the ground
And to my way of thinking
Us southern men need both of them around

Video Killed the Radio Star

by Trevor Horn

I heard you on the wireless back in '52
Lying awake intent at tuning in on you
If I was young, it didn't stop you coming through

They took the credit for your second symphony
Rewritten by machine and new technology
And now I understand the problems you can see

I met your children
What did you tell them?
Video killed the radio star
Video killed the radio star
Pictures came and broke your heart

And now we meet in an abandoned studio
We hear the playback, and it seems so long ago
And you remember the jingles used to go

You were the first one
You were the last one
Video killed the radio star
Video killed the radio star
In my mind and in my car
We can't rewind; we've gone too far
Pictures came and broke your heart
Put the blame on VTR

You are the radio star
Video killed the radio star

Rock and Roll

by Lou Reed

Jenny said when she was just 5 years old
There was nothing happening at all
Every time she puts on the radio
There was nothing going down at all

Then one fine morning, she puts on a New York station
You know, she don't believe what she heard at all
She started shaking to that fine, fine music
You know, her life was saved by rock and roll

Despite all the amputations
You know, you could just go out
And dance to the rock and roll station
It was all right

Jenny said when she was just about 5 years old
'You know, my parents are gonna be the death of us all
'Two TV sets and two Cadillac cars
'Well, you know, ain't gonna help me at all'

Then one fine morning, she turns on a New York station
She doesn't believe what she hears at all
She started dancing to that fine, fine music
You know, her life was saved by rock and roll

Despite all the computations
You could just change it
To that rock and roll station
And baby, it was all right

Alex Chilton

by Paul Westerberg

If he was from Venus, would he feed us with a spoon?
If he was from Mars, wouldn't that be cool?
Standing right on campus, would he stamp us in a file?
Hanging down in Memphis all the while

Children by the million sing for Alex Chilton
When he comes 'round
They sing, 'I'm in love! What's that song?
'I'm in love with that song'

Cerebral rape and pillage in a village of his choice
Invisible man who can sing in a visible voice
Feeling like a hundred bucks, exchanging good lucks face to face
Checking his stash by the trash at St. Mark's Place

I never travel far without a little Big Star

Running 'round the house, Mickey Mouse and the Tarot cards
Falling asleep with a flop-pop video on
If he was from Venus, would he meet us on the moon?
If he died in Memphis, then that'd be cool

Ripple

by Robert Hunter

If my words did glow with the gold of sunshine
And my tunes were played on the harp unstrung
Would you hear my voice come through the music?
Would you hold it near, as it were your own?

It's a hand-me-down, the thoughts are broken
Perhaps they're better left unsung
I don't know, don't really care
Let there be songs to fill the air

Ripple in still water
When there is no pebble tossed
Nor wind to blow

Reach out your hand if your cup be empty
If your cup is full may it be again
Let it be known there is a fountain
That was not made by the hands of man

There is a road, no simple highway
Between the dawn and the dark of night
And if you go, no one may follow
That path is for your steps alone

Ripple in still water
When there is no pebble tossed
Nor wind to blow

You who choose to lead must follow
But if you fall, you fall alone
If you should stand, then who's to guide you?
If I knew the way, I would take you home