Poetry competition CLOSED 21st June 2013 7:04pm
WINNER
case28 (Alexander Case)
case28 (Alexander Case)
Page:
My My, Hey Hey
Anonymous
CLARIFICATION - was it Curt Cobain's suicide note:
In Kurt Cobain's suicide note he quoted Neil Young's song "My My, Hey Hey" lyrics "It's Better to burn out, than to fade away.
Neil Young – Hey Hey, My My (Into The Black)
Hey hey, my my
Rock and roll can never die
There's more to the picture
Than meets the eye.
Out of the blue and into the black
You pay for this, but they give you that
Once you're gone, you can't come back
When you're out of the blue
And into the black
The king is gone but he's not forgotten
Is this the story of Johnny Rotten?
It's better to burn out 'cause rust never sleeps
The king is gone but he's not forgotten
Hey hey, my my
Rock and roll can never die
There's more to the picture
Than meets the eye.
In Kurt Cobain's suicide note he quoted Neil Young's song "My My, Hey Hey" lyrics "It's Better to burn out, than to fade away.
Neil Young – Hey Hey, My My (Into The Black)
Hey hey, my my
Rock and roll can never die
There's more to the picture
Than meets the eye.
Out of the blue and into the black
You pay for this, but they give you that
Once you're gone, you can't come back
When you're out of the blue
And into the black
The king is gone but he's not forgotten
Is this the story of Johnny Rotten?
It's better to burn out 'cause rust never sleeps
The king is gone but he's not forgotten
Hey hey, my my
Rock and roll can never die
There's more to the picture
Than meets the eye.
Anonymous
http://react2.tripod.com/note.jpg
I WOULD RATHER DIE THAN FADE AWAY
I have lived my life fast and loose
Sampled the feast spread before me
Made love to both women and men
Tried euphoriants and oils which soothed me
For a while I had fame, more than that – notoriety
For a while I had money and some influence
For a while I lived like I would die immediately
Then came the fall as fashion changes
I was yesterday's heroine, no longer “in”
The papers spoke of me in past tense
Even the tabloids ignored me
So I became more daring
Tried suicide, overdosed twice
Did not cause a ripple
I may have been dead
My career revived and once again
For a brief while, I was trendy again
Then came the catastrophe
With the sick fan
Who tried to stalk me
Who I shot by accident
I could not live through that
I became a legend then
Suicide at 27
Joined Janis and Jimi and all the rest
My fans outside the chapel sway
They do not know:
That I would rather die than fade away.
I WOULD RATHER DIE THAN FADE AWAY
I have lived my life fast and loose
Sampled the feast spread before me
Made love to both women and men
Tried euphoriants and oils which soothed me
For a while I had fame, more than that – notoriety
For a while I had money and some influence
For a while I lived like I would die immediately
Then came the fall as fashion changes
I was yesterday's heroine, no longer “in”
The papers spoke of me in past tense
Even the tabloids ignored me
So I became more daring
Tried suicide, overdosed twice
Did not cause a ripple
I may have been dead
My career revived and once again
For a brief while, I was trendy again
Then came the catastrophe
With the sick fan
Who tried to stalk me
Who I shot by accident
I could not live through that
I became a legend then
Suicide at 27
Joined Janis and Jimi and all the rest
My fans outside the chapel sway
They do not know:
That I would rather die than fade away.
Anonymous
“Magic Hands and the Fireflies”
http://www.theparisreview.org/blog/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/neil-young.jpg
(A Tribute to Neil Young and Lost Love)
Every now and then
there Comes a Time
to contemplate
on ancient
Hippie Dreams,
the ones
I used to have,
the ones
that kept me going.
It’s still so
crystal- clear
in my mind.
Like a Hurricane,
you swept me off
my dancing-feet,
you stood stark-naked,
so sweet
on those distant
psychedelic-shores.
Your Heart of Gold
was infectious,
a delicious feast we had,
I never wanted it to end.
My Powderfinger
wanted to stop you,
but the Thrashers
beat me to it first.
You always had purpose,
loved the fight for
real justice.
Now,
my lonely-place
is standing in line
For the Turnstiles,
I wait patiently
for another chance
to see you,
to relish in your
pretty-flower
splendor.
And though
I feel Helpless
Down by the River,
I hope,
I do pray,
I do not
become an Old Man
staring at my face
in a fractured mirror,
watching the
hands of time spin,
waiting for
your reply.
But remember this
darling-girl,
Rust never Sleeps,
and
neither will I,
promise to keep
your memory alive
forever.
I await
your response,
clairvoyant
or
otherwise.
Until
I hear from you,
I’ll be
Rockin’ in the Free World,
waving magic hands in
the air with the fireflies.
And, if you don’t catch my vibe,
I’ll see you on the other side,
if only
if only...My My Hey Hey,
I'll never say goodbye.
http://www.theparisreview.org/blog/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/neil-young.jpg
(A Tribute to Neil Young and Lost Love)
Every now and then
there Comes a Time
to contemplate
on ancient
Hippie Dreams,
the ones
I used to have,
the ones
that kept me going.
It’s still so
crystal- clear
in my mind.
Like a Hurricane,
you swept me off
my dancing-feet,
you stood stark-naked,
so sweet
on those distant
psychedelic-shores.
Your Heart of Gold
was infectious,
a delicious feast we had,
I never wanted it to end.
My Powderfinger
wanted to stop you,
but the Thrashers
beat me to it first.
You always had purpose,
loved the fight for
real justice.
Now,
my lonely-place
is standing in line
For the Turnstiles,
I wait patiently
for another chance
to see you,
to relish in your
pretty-flower
splendor.
And though
I feel Helpless
Down by the River,
I hope,
I do pray,
I do not
become an Old Man
staring at my face
in a fractured mirror,
watching the
hands of time spin,
waiting for
your reply.
But remember this
darling-girl,
Rust never Sleeps,
and
neither will I,
promise to keep
your memory alive
forever.
I await
your response,
clairvoyant
or
otherwise.
Until
I hear from you,
I’ll be
Rockin’ in the Free World,
waving magic hands in
the air with the fireflies.
And, if you don’t catch my vibe,
I’ll see you on the other side,
if only
if only...My My Hey Hey,
I'll never say goodbye.
Anonymous
I'm coming back for this one but man, anna's comments crack me up in these threads all the time..lol..
Anonymous
soliciting lifts on du carpe? 
-this is a comp, show some professionalism :-)did I mention my latest snack? ha ha
-this is a comp, show some professionalism :-)did I mention my latest snack? ha ha
Anonymous
Neil...
He knew this was nowhere
that the gold-rush was over
my soul could never rust
while he's on harmonica
transmitting the sound of life
strife, and getting on
acoustic or electric
each and every song
like a harvest moon
down by the river
his lyrics reflect
the plight of us all
Oh, the needle and the damage done
he still delivers
goes on
time fades away
as we journey through the past
we're lucky to embrace
for one last dance
see the sky about to rain?
his revolution blues have the world
on a string
as he rocks in the free world
keeping it alive
a hippie dream on a moonlit drive
roll another one for the road
for the long walk home around the world
He knew this was nowhere
that the gold-rush was over
my soul could never rust
while he's on harmonica
transmitting the sound of life
strife, and getting on
acoustic or electric
each and every song
like a harvest moon
down by the river
his lyrics reflect
the plight of us all
Oh, the needle and the damage done
he still delivers
goes on
time fades away
as we journey through the past
we're lucky to embrace
for one last dance
see the sky about to rain?
his revolution blues have the world
on a string
as he rocks in the free world
keeping it alive
a hippie dream on a moonlit drive
roll another one for the road
for the long walk home around the world
Young Rusty the Old Hippie
"My name is Rusty, I'm here to play,
guitar strings rattle and grind with my hips,
oxide drips from my harmonica
I can taste old rock-n-rock on my lips."
"I am the grand-daddy-o of denim grunge
toking, stomping on a flannelette reefer,
rusty fingertips scratching steel strings
fading memory searching for words from my youth."
"It's better to burn out
than to fade away."
"My words, my dedication to lost legends
the irony ignored and context long forgotten
something that Club Twenty-Seven and others
have flaunted and absconded."
"I am rust fading into black,"
the hard-rock-folk-rock songs not forgotten,
old-young master songsmith, rocker and poet
respected for a final comeback... again and again.
"My name is Young Rusty
I’m here to play to the day I die."
Guitar strings rattle and grind
with my broken hip.
RIP
Hendrix
RIP
Morrison
RIP
Bon Scott
RIP
Cobain
RIP
Paul Hester
"Hey hey, my my
rock and roll
can never die."
