Song Lyric Sunday Theme for 30/09/2018

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Helen’s theme for this week’s SLS is  “search”.

Well, isn’t that just easy peazy. In fact Google have their own song that fits the bill perfectly.

Now, everyone join in and we’ll have a great time!

NO! SERIOUSLY! Do you really think I would offer that to you?

We all, at some time, become searchers, and that takes me right back to my teenage years again.

The Searchers heard British performer Cliff Bennett perform “Needles and Pins” at a club in Hamburg, Germany, and instantly wanted it to be their next single. The Pye Records single was released in January 1964. It was number one in the United Kingdom, Ireland and South Africa and peaked at number 13 on the Billboard Hot 100 singles chart in the United States. Soon after, in April 1964, “Needles and Pins” appeared on the Searchers’ next album, It’s the Searchers.

Apparently their bass drum pedal was faulty and it can be heard squeaking throughout the song. I never ever noticed it, and cannot now, even knowing that fact!

Needles and Pins

The Searchers

I saw her today, I saw her face, it was a face I loved, and I knew
I had to run away, and get down on my knees and pray that they’d go away
But still they’d begin, needles and pins
Because of all my pride, the tears I gotta hide

Hey I thought I was smart, I’d won her heart
Didn’t think I’d do, but now I see
She’s worse to him than me, let her go ahead
Take his love instead, and one day she will see
Just how to say please, and get down on her knees
Hey that’s how it begins, she’ll feel those needles and pins
A-hurtin’ her, a-hurtin’ her

Why can’t I stop and tell myself I’m wrong, I’m wrong, so wrong
Why can’t I stand up and tell myself I’m strong

Because I saw her today, I saw her face, it was a face I loved, and I knew
I had to run away, and get down on my knees and pray that they’d go away
But still they’d begin needles and pins
Because of all my pride, the tears I gotta hide

Oh needles and pins, needles and pins, needles and pins

Songwriters: Jack Nitzsche / Sonny Bono

Needles and Pins lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

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Twittering Tales #100 – 4 September 2018

Come one, come all.

Join in with the 100th Twittering Tale challenge!

Kat Myrman’s wonderful challenge to tax our creative souls is an extra special one this week.  We have to try to revert to the original 140 characters, instead of the now normal 280 characters, or fewer, to write a story based on the photo prompt. I wasn’t in at the very beginning. I think it was TT#14 before I discovered the joys of Twittering (you can see I don’t tweet in real life!) but it is now a must for me each week.

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Photo by Lauris at Pixabay.com

Here is this week’s prompt and my contribution which, instead of a tale, is a limerick to celebrate Kat’s birthday (at least I think that is what the picture is all about!). Check out all the fabulous entries here.

Kat is 100 it seems,
but younger by far in her dreams.
She’s really much brighter,
a hell of a writer,
and the smile on her face it just gleams!

(140 characters)

 

Sunday sayings #34

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Life was oh so simple once, I knew its every whim,

but now it seems we need more rules, it’s getting really grim.

What became of common sense, fair play, and honesty?

We seem to have forgotten just how precious life can be!

 

The youngsters blame the older folk, the oldsters blame the young,

what became of tolerance, we’re all so highly strung?

We seem to analyse each move, and everything we do.

I used to understand my world but now I have no clue!

PHEW – I MADE IT!

I once set about reading The Bible all the way through.  I made it! (although a lot of it was skipped through very swiftly, because some parts are boring {quite a lot}) I don’t take the Bible as gospel (see what I did there!), but it is a tremendous work by many people over many, many years.

One of the bits that many people could recount, although not verbatim, is the bit about reaching the age of 70, and guess what, I made it!

Psalm 90:10 King James Version

The days of our years are threescore years and ten; and if by reason of strength they be fourscore years, yet is their strength labour and sorrow; for it is soon cut off, and we fly away.

That inspired the following little offering of ageist poetry:

Well, I’m buggered

Whoever thought? Three score years and ten,

and maybe, then, another ten;

but no excitement for the morrow

for it’s bound to end in sorrow,

and even if you reach that stage

you’ll surely creak, and feel your age;

but don’t get too complacent mate,

your number’s up, it’s just too late.

So, make the most of every day

before you have to fly away!

 

I fully intend to make the most of every day, with a little help from my friends.

For those who don’t know the real lyrics here they are

Twittering Tale #64 – 26 December 2017

It’s time again for Kat Myrman’s wonderful challenge to tax our creative souls. Just take her photo prompt and write a story, inspired by it, in 280 characters or fewer.watch-1267420_1280

Here is this week’s prompt and my contribution. Check out all the fabulous entries here.

Photo by WildOne at Pixabay’s Creative Commons

 

 

He was a total fool. The last to admit it, but admit it he did!
One wish, she’d said.
He asked for it.
No hesitation.
Stupid!
“I wish time could go backwards, so I could be young again.”
The wish was granted.
Sadly he hadn’t stipulated a cut off point, and being unborn was not nice!

(279 characters)

Flowers in the Snow

A beautiful, evocative, glimpse of our ephemeral lives , linked to the image of transient flowers in the snow.

No Talent For Certainty

Just flowers in the snow;
Conceived to joy, and born to grow,
To lives that ever few will know
We live, we love, we come, we go,
Just flowers in the snow.

A boy was born to parents poor,
He always dreamed of flying;
With paper, and with balsa wood,
Surroundings bad but moments good,
To his long-dream applying:
His parents wanted something more
For him: to conquer and to soar,
And so they did whate’er they could
His wish solidifying.
And when, at last, he took the skies
His life, their love, shone in their eyes
That no one now remembers, long ago —

Just flowers in the snow;
Conceived to joy, and born to grow,
To lives that ever few will know
We live, we love, we come, we go,
Just flowers in the snow.

A girl grown old, with hair of white,
Once had a dream of…

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