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Location
North Carolina
Birthday
June 11
Bio
____________________________________ Available now "A KILLER OF ANGELS" by Kenneth Sibbett Amazon Books, Kindle and CreateSpace https://www.amazon.com/author/kennethsibbett ____________________________________ ____________________________________ I also write under the name "Kenneth Sibbett". Email: kennethsibbett@gmail.com ___________________________________

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JANUARY 6, 2012 10:22AM

I Wanna Be a Songwriter

Rate: 39 Flag

 

songwriter

Folk's
I wanna be a Songwriter
want to write about Yesterday
to hell with the Paperback Writer
want to lay with my Lay Lady Lay
I'm  sittin' here in the House of the Rising Sun
been here All Day and All the Night 
just listening to the Sounds of Silence
My Generation could damn sure write
while You Can't Always Get What You Want
my Proud Mary could always Light My Fire
just A Day In the Life of Good Lovin'
and I'll be writing 'til the Midnight Hour
want to write about that Old Time Rock & Roll 
let The Stones Paint it Black for me
Let's Spend the Night Together baby 
Mother's Little Helper always has the key
Clapton made millions on Layla
while at the Crossroads snortin' Cocaine
so Please, Please, Please, People Get Ready
can someone tell me Who'll Stop the Rain
I'll  Cash in at Folsom Prison
by thumbing down the Lost Highway 
staring out of Merle's Hungry Eyes
and forgetting When Time Slips Away
cruizin' with Bo Diddley in his Cadillac
with the  Old Man and the Cinnamon Girl
everybody is Free Fallin' on Ventura Blvd 
wonder what happened to We Are the World
we all Heard It Through the Grapevine 
that the answer is Blowin' in the Wind 
we'll need Lawyers, Guns, and Money
if we're all Born To Be Wild again
got no Sympathy for the Devil
don't have a Whole Lotta Love for you
Just sittin' here on the Dock of the Bay
looking good in my Blue Suede Shoes
everybody knows For What It's Worth
to follow The Tracks of My Tears
you know I Ain't to Proud to Beg 
been Dazed and Confused for years
you say I Can't Get No Satisfaction 
I'm a Believer that it's true
what happens When a Man Loves a Woman
what happened to Runaround Sue 
been Crying 96 Tears In My White Room 
turning a Whiter Shade of Pale 
never been anyone's Fortunate Son
God Only Knows I'll end up in jail 
My Girl You've Lost That Lovin' Feelin'
all your Good Vibrations got a Ticket To Ride
I know The Time's They Are A' Changin'
cause the Sunshine Of Your Love up and died
you asked me Do You Believe In Magic
You Really Got Me Eight Miles High
now I Need Somebody To Love
is it you Suite: Judy Blue Eyes
I just wanna be a Songwriter
want to write about Yesterday
to hell with the Paperback Writer
want to lay with my Lay Lady Lay  
 
  

 

 
 
 
 
  
 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 





 

 

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Comments

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I think I have way to much time on my hands~
That was really a lot of fun, Scanner.
I believe that you can do anything you set your mind to doing.
Your poetry is wonderful, I have never read anything here that was not amazing. Go for it Mr. Songwriter.
rated with love
No matter how much I want to be a song write that won't change the fact that no one else wants me to do so due to the fact that I would be the worst there's ever been!

I guess I'll just have to leave it to you, good luck; you can't be worse than me for starters!
As Time Goes By you'll discover that
Only The Lonely in
Heartbreak Hotel on
Moonlight Bay are
Cryin' In The Rain Over You.

But, Here Comes The Sunshine, so
Button Up Your Overcoat and
Take My Hand, because I'm
A Stranger On The Shore, living in a
Ring of Fire, with a
Heart of Glass.
.
Time on your hands? I wish I could think of this while I have time on my hands. -R-
I feel you Scanner. I too reserve a special admiration for those who can lay down the tunes. Books are lovely, and paintings too, but there's no connection with an audience quite like a sweet little ditty to sing along to.
That was Mick Jagger singing that song right??
It's 2102.. be anything you want to be Scanner and I am behind you.
HUGGGGGGGGGG
Wooo, ya got the titles, bubs. Don't be giving up the paperback writing, tho. That's where ya grow. The songwriting biz is mostly luck, I hear. 'course ya got a little of that goin' for ya, too. Turnin' into a Renaissance man it would seem.
Thanks guys. I can't write music, you have to be able to play it first, and I still stink. No, I want to be a writer, I was just playing around with the top 100 songs of all time, and wanted to see how many I could rhyme in one poem. Not too bad, but I have a tin ear.
You're a writer.. you have a guitar and know some chords

not much of a stretch there partna
They're Coming To Take Me Away....ha, ha, ho, ho, hee, hee.
Baby, baby, baby, you're out of time.

Not really, just having an off day or some shit.
As penned by the great Shel Silverstein ---

"Well we are big rock singers, we've got golden fingers
And we're loved everywhere we go
We sing about beauty and we sing about truth
At ten thousand dollars a show
We take all kind of pills to give us all kind of thrills
But the thrill we've never known
Is the thrill that'll get you when you get your picture
On the cover of the Rolling Stone"
If I had an iPod, this could be my Playlist.
:) and I want to sing bass in a five-part street-corner doowop harmony group I think we'll do what we can !


r.
My friend, what's stopping you?

R♥
That is so 'Deep in the Heart of Texas.' Good one, Scanman. R
I just knew Chuck would be by to comment on this one! Thanks for the memories, Scanner - good job.
Good stuff. I hope you can do it...
Those were the days, my friend.
We thought they'd never end.
This is actually very clever, scanner. Kudos.
Can I be the tambourine chick in your band?
Paul and Paula are not happy that you left them out Singing in the Rain.

Lezlie
It looks to me like you have sunshine on your shoulder...most excellent.
That is incredible scanner. I mean, jeez, you put some hours into that to make it clean around the edges, didn't you? I liked that I know most of those songs, and a generation of my own. But to write them...well that always seemed too difficult, sort of like this poem.
Brilliant! Love it! Bravo! Encore!
I know I can't be the only one that sang my way through this work of art! Great, scanner, just great.
Read this three times and could not find one bit of talent anywhere! Well..... so I lie.
This isn't just good. This is really hard to do. Rated with respect.
Kind of a tour de force scanner. But i like the sentiment. When I was in my teens I thought that being a songwriter would be the best way to make a living. You know, bash off a couple of hit tunes every year, maybe a few days work in all, and goof off the rest of the time. Then live off the royalties when you hit that age beyond which you couldn't be trusted. Not that I ever attempted anything though.
You are! And I am proud of you...yes, that makes me Proud Mary!
I think you nailed it. Your a songwriter by jove a song writer...I was singing your words to the song using the tune... I want to be a cowboy.... Song on my friend song On...
This was a blast. A trip down memory lane to be sure. R
You are so right - music kicked ass in the good old days of rock and roll. Great post Scanner.
This was very original and cool, scanner.
"I just wanna be a Songwriter
want to write about Yesterday
to hell with the Paperback Writer
want to lay with my Lay Lady Lay "


only thing there is, outside all the trappings of an Ego
or the do good-ness of one who wishes to alleviate
empathetic pain...

us, basically, argh.

us: a world fulla lies takes us in its jaws
and reduces us to music, which aint
such a bad burden,as you show:

"got no Sympathy for the Devil
don't have a Whole Lotta Love for you
Just sittin' here on the Dock of the Bay
looking good in my Blue Suede Shoes"


still..i a m young enough to go out
and thrill the young tender things when i put in a buck
and play "sympathy"

please..allow me to introduce meself.
hard to care sometimes, aint it?
Gads Fun. I bumped on the Feed with James M. E..
I was wondering about Blue Stocking Babe earlier.
I sometimes wonder. I Love Smithery's comment.
etc.,
S. Silverstein is adult and children reading script.
I dream you are a NOT a Greek Tragedy - NOT yet.
You act like a sleepless playwright and smoke-free.
Or?
No ask
No tell
Fumes
`
You smoke in bed
you write prose
obey mommy
no bump head
no fall from bed
keep sharing
`
Time is fleeting.