I listen'd, motionless and still;
And, as I mounted up the hill,
The music in my heart I bore,
Long after it was heard no more.

I listened, motionless and still; And, as I mounted up the hill, The music in my heart I bore, Long after it was heard no more.

Or music heard so deeply
That it is not heard at all, but you are the music
While the music lasts.

Here's our old favorite record
I can't stand to hear it anymore
Here's some old lingering love
It's in my heart and it's tearing it apart.

music heard so deeply
That it is not heard at all, but
you are the music
While the music lasts.

A long long time ago I can still remember how that music used to make me smile And I knew if I had my chance That I could make those people dance And maybe they'd be happy for a while. But February made me shiver With every paper I'd deliver Bad news on the doorstep I couldn't take one more step I can't remember if I cried When I read about his widowed bride But something touched me deep inside The Day the Music Died.

So in the heart,
When, fading slowly down the past,
Fond memories depart,
And each that leaves it seems the last;
Long after all the rest are flown,
Returns a solitary tone,—
The after-echo of departed years,—
And touches all the soul to tears.

There was a time when the beauty and the music were all within, and I sat and listened to my thoughts, and there was a song in them. I sat for hours on rocks and wrestled with the melody which possessed me. I sat and listened by the hour to a positive though faint and distant music, not sung by any bird, nor vibrating any earthly harp.

I carry a deep sadness of the heart which must now and then break out in sound.

And my heart senses tears
it's the heart that always plays quietly alone
the heart is lonesome
the heart, early in its youthful boyhood, cast a shadow on my life
the gradually enlarging shadow of solitude
the shadow of terrifying melancholy grows.

So my heart finally broke. It was so long bent.
And it broke in three places when it finally went.
It wanted only to say what it meant.
So it suffered every punishment.

The notes of this music were the last thing I heard before I went off the poop and felt myself going headlong into the icy water with the engines and machinery buzzing in my ears.

The music was like the memory of joys that are past, pleasant and mournful to the soul.

When she had passed, it seemed like the ceasing of exquisite music.