Testo inglese where is the love

All love songs must contain "duende", because the love song is never simply happy. It must first embrace the potential for pain. Those songs that speak of love, without having within their lines an ache or a sigh, are not love songs at all, but rather hate songs disguised as love songs, and are not to be trusted.

These songs deny us our human-ness and our God-given right to be sad, and the airwaves are littered with them. The love song must resonate with the whispers of sorrow and the echoes of grief. The writer who refuses to explore the darker reaches of the heart will never be able to write convincingly about the wonder, magic and joy of love, for just as goodness cannot be trusted unless it has breathed the same air as evil, so within the fabric of the love song, within its melody, its lyric, one must sense an acknowledgement of its capacity for suffering.

Down the road I look and there runs Mary Hair of gold and lips like cherries We go down to the river where the willows weep Take a naked root for a lovers' seat That rose out of the bitten soil But bound to the ground by creeping ivy coils O Mary you have seduced my soul And I don't know right from wrong Forever a hostage of your child's world And then I ran my tin-cup heart along The prison of her ribs And with a toss of her curls That little girl goes waddling in Rolling her dress up past her knee Turning these waters into wine Then she plaited all the willow vines Mary in the shallows laughing Over where the carp dart Spooked by the new shadows that she cast Across these sad waters and across my heart.

I found the Psalms, which deal directly with the relationship between man and God, teeming with all the clamorous desperation, longing, exaltation, erotic violence and brutality that I could hope for. They are soaked in saudade, drenched in duende, and bathed in bloody-minded violence. In a lot of ways, these songs became the blueprint for many of my more sadistic love songs.

Psalm , a particular favourite of mine, which was turned into a chart hit by the fab Boney M, is a perfect example of this. By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down, yea, We wept, when we remembered Zion We hanged our harps upon the willows in the midst thereof For there they that carried us away captive required Of us a song; and they that wasted us required of us Mirth saying, Sing us one of the songs of Zion. How shall we sing the Lord's Song in a strange land If I forget thee, O Jerusalem, Let my right hand Forget her cunning If I do not remember thee, let my tongue cleave to The roof of my mouth: If I prefer not Jerusalem above my chief joy Remember, O Lord, the children of Edom in the Day of Jerusalem; who said Rase it, rase it, even to The foundation thereof Daughter of Babylon, who are to be destroyed; Happy shall he be, that rewardeth thee as thou hast Served us.

Happy shall he be, that taketh and dasheth thy little Ones against the stones. Here, the poet finds himself captive in "a strange land", and is forced to sing a song of Zion. He declares his love to his homeland and dreams of revenge. The psalm is ghastly in its violent sentiments, as he sings to his God for deliverance, and that he may be made happy by murdering the children of his enemies. What I found, time and time again in the Bible, was that verses of rapture, of ecstasy and love could hold within them apparently opposite sentiments - hate, revenge, bloody-mindedness - that were not mutually exclusive.

This has left an enduring impression upon my songwriting. The love song must be borne into the realm of the irrational, the absurd, the distracted, the melancholic, the obsessive and the insane, for it is the clamour of love itself, and love is, of course, a form of madness. Whether it is the love of God, or romantic erotic love, these are manifestations of our need to be torn away from the rational, to take leave of our senses, so to speak.

Love songs come in many forms and are written as declarations of love or revenge, to praise or to wound or to flatter - I have written songs for all these reasons, but ultimately the love song exists to fill with language the silence between ourselves and God, to decrease the distance between the temporal and the divine.

But within the world of pop music, a world that deals ostensibly with the love song, true sorrow is just not welcome. There are exceptions: occasionally, a song comes along that hides behind its disposable plastic beat a love lyric of truly devastating proportions.

The disguising of the terror of love in a piece of mindless, innocuous pop is an intriguing concept. Better The Devil You Know contains one of pop music's most violent and distressing love lyrics. Say you won't leave me no more I'll take you back again No more excuses, no, no 'Cause I've heard them all before A hundred times or more I'll forgive and forget If you say you'll never go 'Cause it's true what they say Better the devil you know Our love wasn't perfect I know, I think I know the score You say you love me, O boy I can't ask for more I'll come if you should call I'll be here every day Waiting for your love to show 'Cause it's true what they say It's better the devil you know I'll take you back I'll take you back again.

When Kylie sings these words, there is an innocence to her voice that makes the horror of the chilling lyric all the more compelling. The idea presented within this song, dark and sinister and sad, that love relationships are by nature abusive, and that this abuse, be it physical or psychological, is welcomed and encouraged, shows how even the most seemingly harmless of love songs has the potential to hide terrible human truths. Like Prometheus chained to his rock, the eagle eating his liver night after night, Kylie becomes Love's sacrificial lamb, bleating an earnest invitation to the drooling, ravenous wolf to devour her time and time again, all to a groovy techno beat.

Both are messages to God that cry out into the yawning void, in anguish and self-loathing, for deliverance. As I said earlier, my artistic life has centred around the desire or, more accurately, need to articulate the feelings of loss and longing that have whistled through my bones and hummed in my blood. In the process, I have written about songs, the bulk of which are love songs. Love songs, and thereafter, by my definition, sad songs.

A handful of them rise above the others as true examples of all I have talked about. Mostly, they were the offspring of complicated pregnancies and difficult and painful births.

Most are rooted in direct personal experience and were conceived for a variety of reasons, but this rag-tag group of love songs are, at the death, all the same thing - lifelines thrown into the galaxies by a drowning man.

The reasons I feel compelled to write love songs are legion. Some of these became clearer to me when I sat down with a friend of mine.

We admitted to each other that we both suffered from the psychological disorder that the medical profession terms "Erotigraphomania". Erotigraphomania is the obsessive desire to write love letters. He shared with me the fact that he had written, and sent, over the past five years more than 7, love letters to his wife. My friend looked exhausted, and his shame was almost palpable. We discussed the power of the love letter, and found that it was, not surprisingly, very similar to that of the love song.

Both serve as extended meditations on one's beloved. Both serve to shorten the distance between the writer and the recipient. Both hold within them a permanence and power that the spoken word does not. Both are erotic exercises in themselves. Both have the potential to reinvent, through words, like Pygmalion with his self-created lover of stone, one's beloved. But more than that, both have the insidious power to imprison one's beloved, to bind their hands with love-lines, gag them, blind them, for words become the defining parameter that keeps the image of the loved one imprisoned in a bondage of poetry.

These stolen souls we set adrift, like lost astronauts floating for eternity through the stratospheres of the divine. Me, I never trust a woman who writes letters, because I know that I, myself, cannot be trusted. Words endure, flesh does not. The poet will always have the upper hand. Me, I'm a soul-catcher for God. Here I come with my butterfly net of words. But I Love U Lyrics. Candle Lyrics. Clean Lyric. Paragraph Lyric. This love Yea, yea, yea I gotta holla about my girl full of ''mazing' Yea, yea, yea Let's do it ch'all Yea, it's really taking me from high-low Let's see, where should I begin?

The club on Friday night yo Just having a good'ol time yo The music's banging; people's like 'word' But there was one that caught my eye, so I just had to get closer to her She's super-fly yo, I must confess some I'm thinking, 'Damn I need her' with a lovin' gesture I'm about to hit her with a, 'How you've been' 'You don't remember me?

Hey J, look at me After you left, it ain't the same I'm not what I used to be It hurts so much you know? I need you girl Always, one-time This love. Lyric Advisor is part of the streetdirectory. We have over , songs from 20, song albums performed by 44, singers and bands.

In , BTS became 1 on the Forbes Korea Power Celebrity list, which ranks South Korea's most powerful and influential celebrities, as well as became the youngest ever recipients to be awarded the Order of Cultural Merit from the South Korean government. Hot lyrics. Featured lyrics. If it was for you I could pretend that I was happy even if I was sad If it was for you I could pretend that I was strong even if I was hurt Wishing that love is perfect as itself Wishing all my weakness can be hidden In a dream where nothing worked out for me I raised a flower that couldn't bloom I raised a flower that's couldn't bloom in a dream that can't come true I'm so sick of this Fake Love, Fake Love, Fake Love I'm so sorry but it's Fake Love, Fake Love, Fake Love I wanna be a good man just for you I gave the world just for you I changed it all just for you Now I dunno me, who are you?