its a sound its a feeling its a way of being. its no fuss, theres no extra electric feel added to it, its pure and its real. when you need to unplug and get a sense of what real life is about again its what can take you to that place. that peace of mind.
music. guitars. i love music. it is a giant part of my life. half my summer is around music. and a large part of my life. band, iPod, everything. it’s a passion. music can improve my mood or make me cry. i love acoustic music, it’s beautiful.
The music is echoing, yet I can barely hear it. All I’m seeing, all I’m feeling, are the words you’re singing. You’re not aware, but every word is a message straight to my heart, and every time you pluck a string I fall for you all over again.
Myles came up the creaking basement stairs with a acoustic guitar in his hands the Sunday before Bridget disappeared for a week. I told him over and over again that I didn’t know how to play, but he continued to ask every night before bed until I finally agreed. The strings were stiff and the sound was slightly dulled, but he couldn’t have been more pleased.
“SHUT UP,” Jamie yelled.
Leo just shrugged, looking down, shamed.
Jamie picked up the guitar from the ground and started dragging it back outside. The sound of her shout still reverberated around the room.
The acoustics above roared down and the ceiling visibly shook and I thought that in a crazy moment the train may just come hurtling through although it was quite obviously not a train but just a sound or some sounds from an early neighbour busying about in their routine but my head was sleepy and I pulled the eye mask back on over my half dream now populated with noise.
I want to learn how to play guitar. It’s one of the few instruments that I can’t play. And GOD. I love the sound of a great acoustic guitar cover. Every time I picture my perfect boyfriend, I imagine him playing me fabulous love songs on his trusty guitar. Guys are sooo sexy when they play.
Theturqoise walls seemed to open up the room, with the light flowing in and the yellow lace curtains swinging. From out the window came sounds, several sounds — the monotone whoosh of the breeze, the swish of long grass, and the sound of someone singing along with an acoustic guitar.
Acoustic reverberations twanged and banged through the ceiling which shook visibly and I wondered if the train would just come crashing through or perhaps just pass by, either way I was just far too tired in this grey hour to listen to the judder of the wheels at this time of weekend before my morning coffee or twenty.
don’t think just say. say it all say it loud. let it ring out against the walls, against it all. unburdened unbearing. everyone can hear just your voice, no additives. just listen. listen hard. it’s raw as ever. raw as anything. your voice.,
The windows glinted in the light. Barely able to be seen through, the little boys ducked their heads to see past their reflections to view the newest shipment of guitars. Bradson. Homemade. They were every musician’s dream.
singing without background music like adele. Sounds a bit stranger than usual but pretty good. The colour of the writing matches the kind of peaceful nature of the type of music so does the shape of the writing, rounded and gentle looking.
Sitting back in the leather chair and listening to Borg sing in harmony you can tell that the workmanship to make the acoustic sound amazing in this small recording
room.
He picked up his acoustic guitar (one of 6, may I add) and played her one of his songs. She couldn’t help but be mesmerized. Who wouldn’t want their own personal troubadour?
drumming at my fingertips, my soul sets fire. surfing sound waves passionately, my heart opens and flutters. calluses built up at my fingertips, toughened by time and practice.
i prefer music this way. more emotional. sounds more original and makes the song a little sweeter. my favourite songs are all the acoustic versions. more heart is put into it and the singer always seems to have more emotion.
Authentic, powerful, and is the essence of musical creativity. Not electric, dad, garage band time, fascination and I wish I could do it too. A strong, meaningful sound, enables you to play and express yourself.
I like your tune,
Twing twang and
Everything in between.
I like your nature,
That beautiful soul
pouring from your lips.
You invite me on stage.
I’ll stay here in the crowd
Dancing with strangers, adoring.
Acoustic notes and lies.
Jenny sat in her treehouse and listened to the birds sing. She brought up her acoustic guitar to play a song. She wrote a song up there and is trying to get her career started with it.
There was so little time to adjust tthe acoustic level in the chapel before the service began. Everyone over the age of adolesence held their hands over their wars. The kids were all grinning as the music pulsed, the drums nearly lifting the carpet off the floor. Finally someone reached the controller and silence was imposed on the still vibrating space
music, pure music. the music that plucks, not blasts its pure and warm. the sound of just wood and voice mixed together with nothing elsejust strumming, no bass or clashes.
When I was about 13, my closest cousin decided he was going to learn how t play the acoustic guitar. He actually started off pretty, and unlike most young musician, he had a knack for cool lyrics that I was able to connect with at the time…probably because we were both in the 7th grade. Anywho, some
my guitar is probably my favorite thing. it can always make me happy. anyone playing guitar for me also makes me happy. or if i pretend that they’re playing for me. music is such a big part of my life.
I cant play acoustic guitar and I am actually not even musical at all. So I don’t really think of much when I see the word acoustic but relate it to a guitar. I actually think of my friend Joshua Johnson when I see acoustic because after I relate it to the guitar I relate it to the only person that i know that has played the acoustic guitar for me and that is him its funny because we just talked about it today.
i love the sound of a guitar as it strums through my feelings pierces through my soul soothes my heart eases my mind. light candles to relax to allow my fears to float away making the evening light. causing a smile where once was a frown.
I remember the day I got my first guitar, red shiny, vinal strings, with the acoustic sound that I adore. It was my fathers before he died, but now it was mine.
Simple sounds rise from the raw instruments sensing time with closed eyes. I felt in love with your ripe emotion flowing from dark eyes. Rivers of melody cascaded beneath our feet with our first hope.
The beautiful music streamed from the acoustic guitar as the boy sang along, his eyes closed as he sat beneath his large oak tree, singing a song that was rather close to his heart. He was completely unaware of the girl sitting up in that tree, listening to every melodical word that escaped his lips.
The acoustic guitar was beautiful, possibly the most beautiful gift he had ever received. He strummed the strings gently, and was rewarded with a soft melody. It was a tremendous gift for him to receive-the ability to make something.
Listening to something that completely man made drowns out the sound that needs to be heard. Listen to the natural sound and find meaning in it’s depth.
its a sound its a feeling its a way of being. its no fuss, theres no extra electric feel added to it, its pure and its real. when you need to unplug and get a sense of what real life is about again its what can take you to that place. that peace of mind.
music. guitars. i love music. it is a giant part of my life. half my summer is around music. and a large part of my life. band, iPod, everything. it’s a passion. music can improve my mood or make me cry. i love acoustic music, it’s beautiful.
The music is echoing, yet I can barely hear it. All I’m seeing, all I’m feeling, are the words you’re singing. You’re not aware, but every word is a message straight to my heart, and every time you pluck a string I fall for you all over again.
Myles came up the creaking basement stairs with a acoustic guitar in his hands the Sunday before Bridget disappeared for a week. I told him over and over again that I didn’t know how to play, but he continued to ask every night before bed until I finally agreed. The strings were stiff and the sound was slightly dulled, but he couldn’t have been more pleased.
“SHUT UP,” Jamie yelled.
Leo just shrugged, looking down, shamed.
Jamie picked up the guitar from the ground and started dragging it back outside. The sound of her shout still reverberated around the room.
The acoustics above roared down and the ceiling visibly shook and I thought that in a crazy moment the train may just come hurtling through although it was quite obviously not a train but just a sound or some sounds from an early neighbour busying about in their routine but my head was sleepy and I pulled the eye mask back on over my half dream now populated with noise.
I want to learn how to play guitar. It’s one of the few instruments that I can’t play. And GOD. I love the sound of a great acoustic guitar cover. Every time I picture my perfect boyfriend, I imagine him playing me fabulous love songs on his trusty guitar. Guys are sooo sexy when they play.
Especially ZC.
YUM!
Theturqoise walls seemed to open up the room, with the light flowing in and the yellow lace curtains swinging. From out the window came sounds, several sounds — the monotone whoosh of the breeze, the swish of long grass, and the sound of someone singing along with an acoustic guitar.
Acoustic reverberations twanged and banged through the ceiling which shook visibly and I wondered if the train would just come crashing through or perhaps just pass by, either way I was just far too tired in this grey hour to listen to the judder of the wheels at this time of weekend before my morning coffee or twenty.
Open air
the sound of your voice thins as it moves over the broad green lawn
and as we step into the thick shadows of wood
our voices step closer, too
I love acoustics. they make you listen to the world of sound in all its detail
don’t think just say. say it all say it loud. let it ring out against the walls, against it all. unburdened unbearing. everyone can hear just your voice, no additives. just listen. listen hard. it’s raw as ever. raw as anything. your voice.,
The windows glinted in the light. Barely able to be seen through, the little boys ducked their heads to see past their reflections to view the newest shipment of guitars. Bradson. Homemade. They were every musician’s dream.
singing without background music like adele. Sounds a bit stranger than usual but pretty good. The colour of the writing matches the kind of peaceful nature of the type of music so does the shape of the writing, rounded and gentle looking.
Sitting back in the leather chair and listening to Borg sing in harmony you can tell that the workmanship to make the acoustic sound amazing in this small recording
room.
acoustic guitar in the hands of a minor is a weapon of for heads and hearts pleasure the youth give pleasure
He picked up his acoustic guitar (one of 6, may I add) and played her one of his songs. She couldn’t help but be mesmerized. Who wouldn’t want their own personal troubadour?
drumming at my fingertips, my soul sets fire. surfing sound waves passionately, my heart opens and flutters. calluses built up at my fingertips, toughened by time and practice.
i prefer music this way. more emotional. sounds more original and makes the song a little sweeter. my favourite songs are all the acoustic versions. more heart is put into it and the singer always seems to have more emotion.
Authentic, powerful, and is the essence of musical creativity. Not electric, dad, garage band time, fascination and I wish I could do it too. A strong, meaningful sound, enables you to play and express yourself.
I like your tune,
Twing twang and
Everything in between.
I like your nature,
That beautiful soul
pouring from your lips.
You invite me on stage.
I’ll stay here in the crowd
Dancing with strangers, adoring.
Acoustic notes and lies.
Is an instrument that makes me really happy.maybe Ill learn how to play it someday. It provides amazing music and endless possibilities. :)
Jenny sat in her treehouse and listened to the birds sing. She brought up her acoustic guitar to play a song. She wrote a song up there and is trying to get her career started with it.
There was so little time to adjust tthe acoustic level in the chapel before the service began. Everyone over the age of adolesence held their hands over their wars. The kids were all grinning as the music pulsed, the drums nearly lifting the carpet off the floor. Finally someone reached the controller and silence was imposed on the still vibrating space
music, pure music. the music that plucks, not blasts its pure and warm. the sound of just wood and voice mixed together with nothing elsejust strumming, no bass or clashes.
the simple music I hear when everything every thing is turned off.
still acoustic. still sounds soft pittering, tattered, eyeing one another, timid. still acoustic. still so salty, the nostalgia.
When I was about 13, my closest cousin decided he was going to learn how t play the acoustic guitar. He actually started off pretty, and unlike most young musician, he had a knack for cool lyrics that I was able to connect with at the time…probably because we were both in the 7th grade. Anywho, some
my guitar is probably my favorite thing. it can always make me happy. anyone playing guitar for me also makes me happy. or if i pretend that they’re playing for me. music is such a big part of my life.
I cant play acoustic guitar and I am actually not even musical at all. So I don’t really think of much when I see the word acoustic but relate it to a guitar. I actually think of my friend Joshua Johnson when I see acoustic because after I relate it to the guitar I relate it to the only person that i know that has played the acoustic guitar for me and that is him its funny because we just talked about it today.
i love the sound of a guitar as it strums through my feelings pierces through my soul soothes my heart eases my mind. light candles to relax to allow my fears to float away making the evening light. causing a smile where once was a frown.
I remember the day I got my first guitar, red shiny, vinal strings, with the acoustic sound that I adore. It was my fathers before he died, but now it was mine.
Simple sounds rise from the raw instruments sensing time with closed eyes. I felt in love with your ripe emotion flowing from dark eyes. Rivers of melody cascaded beneath our feet with our first hope.
My sister Kendel and my brother Shep are in a band. They love to do acoustic covers on songs.
By far one of the most soothing forms of music. Rainy days and depressing times call for it.
The beautiful music streamed from the acoustic guitar as the boy sang along, his eyes closed as he sat beneath his large oak tree, singing a song that was rather close to his heart. He was completely unaware of the girl sitting up in that tree, listening to every melodical word that escaped his lips.
guitar
The acoustic guitar was beautiful, possibly the most beautiful gift he had ever received. He strummed the strings gently, and was rewarded with a soft melody. It was a tremendous gift for him to receive-the ability to make something.
Listening to something that completely man made drowns out the sound that needs to be heard. Listen to the natural sound and find meaning in it’s depth.
The gun went off and I looked down and saw my own blood. “You’ve got me.”