That lullaby you sing might not be strong enough to bury everything, but just knowing that you’re there for me, that this feeling is mutual, is enough to keep me going.
Nyan
She sang a soft lullaby. Her daughter drifeted
gkeorpjb@gmail.com
Sing me a lullaby. Just like you used to. That’s not true. I used to sing myself pretty songs to go to sleep and now you don’t sing anymore. All I think about is singing some pretty lullaby to someone new. Someone who is mine. Someone who is a part of me.
If I could right now,
I would be a Jigglypuff,
so I could sing you a sweet lullaby.
One to wash your worries and fears away.
dramarie
I remember a quiet lullaby, sung by a voice that’s seen so much pain and sorrow. It never lasted very long because I always ended up falling asleep after the first verse, but that’s what lullabies are for, so I guess it was the best one out there.
Quietly, he tip-toed. He was careful to wear socks this time. The sound of his father’s snoring gave him needed cover, because he was known to trip. He advanced tentatively, holding his breath until he reached the wooden crib. There she was, his little sister. So small, so new. A slow sigh escaped his lips, and then a song he didn’t even know he knew.
baby sleeping mama singing comfort soothing peaceful love happiness joy innocence
Dolly
All our childhood we are sung lullabies
Soft words from sweet lips
That tell a story that is oh so nice
The only problem is they aren’t nice
Lullabies truthfully are full of darkness and pain
The old man in the rain dies
The baby in the tree falls
And Jack and Jill lose there lives to a silly mistake
Why do we tell our children these stories?
I can answer that question.
We want to prepare our children for the horror that awaits them the second they leaves our arms
As well as the horror that will greet them while they are there
Sara Dickinson
All our lives we are sung lullabies
Sweet words from sweet lips
That tell a story that is oh so sweet
The only problem is they aren’t sweet
Lullabies truthfully are full of darkness and pain
The old man in the rain dies
The baby in the tree falls
And Jack and Jill lose there lives to a silly mistake
Why do we tell our children these stories?
I can answer that question.
We want to prepare our children for the horror that awaits them the second they leaves our arms
As well as the horror that will great them while they are there
Sara Dickinson
oh, this is fun. i guess the cursor stops after 60 seconds. my first time. I love lullabies. I love babies. I even think I loved being a baby, though lord knows HOW I could remember that! Favorite lullaby? Momma’s gonna buy you a mocking bird….
juliekrantz
The Word lullaby is a lullaby itself. It tires me just like everything else I experience. My life is one big lullaby and not a happy one. It’s a sad and lonely one.
Kittenmermaid
my parents used to sing be a lullaby every night before i fell asleep..sometimes i pretended that i fell asleep, and other times i kept wanting to hear more. my family has three old tunes that will forever be special. <3
halfbright
on broadway baby I need your lovin, got to have all your loving feeling oh, oh that loving feelin groovy time baby baby baby i need you lost that lovin feeling you’ve lost that lovin feeling now its gone gone gone whoa-o-o-oa.
she rocked him gently in her arms. she could feel his pulse weaken. what was that lullaby her aunt sang to her whenever she was too scared to close her eyes and surrender to sleep? more than anything, she wished this gentle song could bathe him in comfort as he lay dying in his hospice bed.
l
The summer lullaby was not one of calm, it was tyrannical, thunderstorms threatening to blow down the house and burn to ashes its remains with bolts of lightning. Still, it had the same effect as a calming lullaby would have.
Isis
The swing gently rocked like a lullaby, and the breeze joined in as it whistled and hummed softly, dancing with the leaves. It brought curiosity to the little girl, as she shrieked in the delights of her youth.
softly her voice caressed every corner of the room, the familiar tune swaying me to sleep. How could such a thing have so much power? It was so simple, so easy… my eyes felt so heavy, only four notes into the song. Such a soothing voice, pretty soprano, dipping down into the upper reaches of the alto range. My eyes fluttered closed, and muscles began to relax, until with a solid certainty, i was asleep.
Lullaby is another word for making a child sleep. It sound weird to me. I don’t really like how it sounds. On emphasis, I wouldn’t use it on a daily basis.
Anushka Sharma
She rocked the crib slowly, the last few notes of the lullaby drawing to a close.
The baby inside gave a little yawn and drifted to sleep, a pacifier in his mouth, his eyes closed, and his face relaxed.
She kissed his forehead and sighed, turning towards the door. The man waiting there stood with his arms crossed, his posture giving away nothing except for the fact that he had a gun with him. She nodded and walked out with him, not looking back towards her baby.
Sweet lullabies sung to a fussy baby at 3 in the morning, pulled from deep in the memory of when you yourself were a fussy babe in arms – or even gentle songs from more recent times, ballads, love songs, anything that is soft and comforting for the small, wailing creature in your arms, will do the trick.
I picked him up and cradled him in my arms. His skin was soft to touch. I breathed in and smelled his sweet smell of shampoo and milk. I looked into his the deep blue pools that were his eyes, he looked at me with love, and I began to rock and sing to him this lullaby.
Amanda
sleep tight baby on the ocean floor
may the soft waves carry you forever more
may the kisses of the fishes sing the body’s law
sleep tight baby ever more
She listened to the soft lullaby and was hit with a sudden blast of deja-vu from her childhood, earlier than she’d ever dreamed she could remember, a scene of someone singing her a soft lullaby as she lay in her cot. Who was that someone though? It certainly didn’t sound like either of her parents!
Mia
I would like to hold you in my arms again and sing you a lullaby. But I can’t. You would no longer fit into my arms anyway and knowing that is like a wound.
Frances
write me a lullaby something that will bring a tear to my eye
Make a heart turn and possibly tell a lie
a baby earn for the parents comfort when it cries
sing me a lullaby something from the inside.
Noah Olson
going to sleep now. soundly. swiftly. sleep like a baby. dreaming of sheep. counting them too. but nothing is better than a mother’s lullaby. lulling you in like the ocean does with the sound of its waves.
annika
a song forgotten, or so I thought. It´s not until I heard it playing from that music box in the gift shop showcase that I remembered. That I realized.
It was a song of hatered and death.
matt
I sing it to him to get him to calm down. sometimes it works, but mostly it’s just to calm myself down when he’s having a shit fit. Still, it’s a nice tune, and takes self control to sing it slowly enough that it doesn’t sound crazy. Sometimes lullabies are scary but not when they’re actually being sung to a child.
Alice
Gia Carangi sang me a lullaby about hoagies once, in my past life, and then she looked into a mirror and said, “i’m hungry, are you hungry?” and i was like, “yeah” and she was like, “let’s get something to eat” and i was like, “okay, where do you want to go?” and she was like, “i don’t know, anything’s good.”
honestly, lullaby would be very interesting… i don’t know how it would affect me… would it really put an aduld to sleep too? would that help people who have crossed their childhood?
i don’t want to hear
your promises or your whispers
or your words;
they offer me no comfort
let me listen to your heartbeat,
pounding against your ribcage.
let me listen to the blood in your veins,
bubbling, fizzing, crackling
to the anthem of your anger
i want to hear your joints creak,
your muscles rip,
your bones crunching underneath steel
and flesh
allow me the poetry of
your pulse,
seventy bullets in a minute
bouncing off of your skin.
keep me up; don’t let me sleep
there is no lullaby to dull the pain,
only the lullaby to keep me company
so don’t eat your words; set them free
i always wanted to die a hero.
F
My mother used to sing me lullabies to help me sleep. As a kid I used to have bad nightmares and that was the only way I could ever fall asleep. Her voice would would wash over me and wrap me in a cocoon of warmth and slowly my eyelids would become too heavy for me to keep open and eventually I would succumb to a nightmare-less sleep.
I miss my kids being babies. I feel so inadequate a mother and stressed out all the time but I’ve always wanted three kids. I don’t think me or my marriage could handle another although that was my dream. Colton is hardly a baby anymore.he’ll be three next month. I miss singing lullabies and rocking my freshly bathed babies to bed.
Sonya
The late night dwindled into the familiar smell of my Disney Princess pillow as my mother’s sigh of shifting my weight into the bed eloquently shifted into a soft lullaby.
Jamie Tidwell
I’m laying in bed, next to my newly-wed wife, and our daughter starts crying. She is even younger than our barely a year-old marriage. My wife gets up to comfort her, singing her gently to sleep. Hush little baby, don’t say a word. Momma’s gonna buy you a mocking bird.
damian
lullaby – just saying the word out loud is soothing. i didn;t know any when my children were babies so i used to sing “annie’s song” to annie and “just like me” by the carpenters to sonny – i don;t think poor kizzy got many lullabies – life was too hectic by the time she came along and honeyfitz the bear was her bedtime comfort anyway – i feel guilty writing that…
That strange sound came from the T.V. The sound that lulls me to to this new world I create in my head every time I see a new episode. I love that sound. It is my lullaby. I can’t see how I could live without it.
That lullaby you sing might not be strong enough to bury everything, but just knowing that you’re there for me, that this feeling is mutual, is enough to keep me going.
She sang a soft lullaby. Her daughter drifeted
Sing me a lullaby. Just like you used to. That’s not true. I used to sing myself pretty songs to go to sleep and now you don’t sing anymore. All I think about is singing some pretty lullaby to someone new. Someone who is mine. Someone who is a part of me.
If I could right now,
I would be a Jigglypuff,
so I could sing you a sweet lullaby.
One to wash your worries and fears away.
I remember a quiet lullaby, sung by a voice that’s seen so much pain and sorrow. It never lasted very long because I always ended up falling asleep after the first verse, but that’s what lullabies are for, so I guess it was the best one out there.
Quietly, he tip-toed. He was careful to wear socks this time. The sound of his father’s snoring gave him needed cover, because he was known to trip. He advanced tentatively, holding his breath until he reached the wooden crib. There she was, his little sister. So small, so new. A slow sigh escaped his lips, and then a song he didn’t even know he knew.
I could remember the many times that we had to sing lullaby to our children to get them to sleep.
baby sleeping mama singing comfort soothing peaceful love happiness joy innocence
All our childhood we are sung lullabies
Soft words from sweet lips
That tell a story that is oh so nice
The only problem is they aren’t nice
Lullabies truthfully are full of darkness and pain
The old man in the rain dies
The baby in the tree falls
And Jack and Jill lose there lives to a silly mistake
Why do we tell our children these stories?
I can answer that question.
We want to prepare our children for the horror that awaits them the second they leaves our arms
As well as the horror that will greet them while they are there
All our lives we are sung lullabies
Sweet words from sweet lips
That tell a story that is oh so sweet
The only problem is they aren’t sweet
Lullabies truthfully are full of darkness and pain
The old man in the rain dies
The baby in the tree falls
And Jack and Jill lose there lives to a silly mistake
Why do we tell our children these stories?
I can answer that question.
We want to prepare our children for the horror that awaits them the second they leaves our arms
As well as the horror that will great them while they are there
oh, this is fun. i guess the cursor stops after 60 seconds. my first time. I love lullabies. I love babies. I even think I loved being a baby, though lord knows HOW I could remember that! Favorite lullaby? Momma’s gonna buy you a mocking bird….
The Word lullaby is a lullaby itself. It tires me just like everything else I experience. My life is one big lullaby and not a happy one. It’s a sad and lonely one.
my parents used to sing be a lullaby every night before i fell asleep..sometimes i pretended that i fell asleep, and other times i kept wanting to hear more. my family has three old tunes that will forever be special. <3
on broadway baby I need your lovin, got to have all your loving feeling oh, oh that loving feelin groovy time baby baby baby i need you lost that lovin feeling you’ve lost that lovin feeling now its gone gone gone whoa-o-o-oa.
she rocked him gently in her arms. she could feel his pulse weaken. what was that lullaby her aunt sang to her whenever she was too scared to close her eyes and surrender to sleep? more than anything, she wished this gentle song could bathe him in comfort as he lay dying in his hospice bed.
The summer lullaby was not one of calm, it was tyrannical, thunderstorms threatening to blow down the house and burn to ashes its remains with bolts of lightning. Still, it had the same effect as a calming lullaby would have.
The swing gently rocked like a lullaby, and the breeze joined in as it whistled and hummed softly, dancing with the leaves. It brought curiosity to the little girl, as she shrieked in the delights of her youth.
softly her voice caressed every corner of the room, the familiar tune swaying me to sleep. How could such a thing have so much power? It was so simple, so easy… my eyes felt so heavy, only four notes into the song. Such a soothing voice, pretty soprano, dipping down into the upper reaches of the alto range. My eyes fluttered closed, and muscles began to relax, until with a solid certainty, i was asleep.
I never sang a lullaby. Because i never had a chance. I never will, and i doubt that i will enjoy it.
Lullaby is another word for making a child sleep. It sound weird to me. I don’t really like how it sounds. On emphasis, I wouldn’t use it on a daily basis.
She rocked the crib slowly, the last few notes of the lullaby drawing to a close.
The baby inside gave a little yawn and drifted to sleep, a pacifier in his mouth, his eyes closed, and his face relaxed.
She kissed his forehead and sighed, turning towards the door. The man waiting there stood with his arms crossed, his posture giving away nothing except for the fact that he had a gun with him. She nodded and walked out with him, not looking back towards her baby.
Sweet lullabies sung to a fussy baby at 3 in the morning, pulled from deep in the memory of when you yourself were a fussy babe in arms – or even gentle songs from more recent times, ballads, love songs, anything that is soft and comforting for the small, wailing creature in your arms, will do the trick.
I picked him up and cradled him in my arms. His skin was soft to touch. I breathed in and smelled his sweet smell of shampoo and milk. I looked into his the deep blue pools that were his eyes, he looked at me with love, and I began to rock and sing to him this lullaby.
sleep tight baby on the ocean floor
may the soft waves carry you forever more
may the kisses of the fishes sing the body’s law
sleep tight baby ever more
She listened to the soft lullaby and was hit with a sudden blast of deja-vu from her childhood, earlier than she’d ever dreamed she could remember, a scene of someone singing her a soft lullaby as she lay in her cot. Who was that someone though? It certainly didn’t sound like either of her parents!
I would like to hold you in my arms again and sing you a lullaby. But I can’t. You would no longer fit into my arms anyway and knowing that is like a wound.
write me a lullaby something that will bring a tear to my eye
Make a heart turn and possibly tell a lie
a baby earn for the parents comfort when it cries
sing me a lullaby something from the inside.
going to sleep now. soundly. swiftly. sleep like a baby. dreaming of sheep. counting them too. but nothing is better than a mother’s lullaby. lulling you in like the ocean does with the sound of its waves.
a song forgotten, or so I thought. It´s not until I heard it playing from that music box in the gift shop showcase that I remembered. That I realized.
It was a song of hatered and death.
I sing it to him to get him to calm down. sometimes it works, but mostly it’s just to calm myself down when he’s having a shit fit. Still, it’s a nice tune, and takes self control to sing it slowly enough that it doesn’t sound crazy. Sometimes lullabies are scary but not when they’re actually being sung to a child.
Gia Carangi sang me a lullaby about hoagies once, in my past life, and then she looked into a mirror and said, “i’m hungry, are you hungry?” and i was like, “yeah” and she was like, “let’s get something to eat” and i was like, “okay, where do you want to go?” and she was like, “i don’t know, anything’s good.”
lullaby… well… thinking… thinking… thinking… lol…
honestly, lullaby would be very interesting… i don’t know how it would affect me… would it really put an aduld to sleep too? would that help people who have crossed their childhood?
i don’t want to hear
your promises or your whispers
or your words;
they offer me no comfort
let me listen to your heartbeat,
pounding against your ribcage.
let me listen to the blood in your veins,
bubbling, fizzing, crackling
to the anthem of your anger
i want to hear your joints creak,
your muscles rip,
your bones crunching underneath steel
and flesh
allow me the poetry of
your pulse,
seventy bullets in a minute
bouncing off of your skin.
keep me up; don’t let me sleep
there is no lullaby to dull the pain,
only the lullaby to keep me company
so don’t eat your words; set them free
i always wanted to die a hero.
My mother used to sing me lullabies to help me sleep. As a kid I used to have bad nightmares and that was the only way I could ever fall asleep. Her voice would would wash over me and wrap me in a cocoon of warmth and slowly my eyelids would become too heavy for me to keep open and eventually I would succumb to a nightmare-less sleep.
I miss my kids being babies. I feel so inadequate a mother and stressed out all the time but I’ve always wanted three kids. I don’t think me or my marriage could handle another although that was my dream. Colton is hardly a baby anymore.he’ll be three next month. I miss singing lullabies and rocking my freshly bathed babies to bed.
The late night dwindled into the familiar smell of my Disney Princess pillow as my mother’s sigh of shifting my weight into the bed eloquently shifted into a soft lullaby.
I’m laying in bed, next to my newly-wed wife, and our daughter starts crying. She is even younger than our barely a year-old marriage. My wife gets up to comfort her, singing her gently to sleep. Hush little baby, don’t say a word. Momma’s gonna buy you a mocking bird.
lullaby – just saying the word out loud is soothing. i didn;t know any when my children were babies so i used to sing “annie’s song” to annie and “just like me” by the carpenters to sonny – i don;t think poor kizzy got many lullabies – life was too hectic by the time she came along and honeyfitz the bear was her bedtime comfort anyway – i feel guilty writing that…
That strange sound came from the T.V. The sound that lulls me to to this new world I create in my head every time I see a new episode. I love that sound. It is my lullaby. I can’t see how I could live without it.
lullabies are sweet and tender, they are sung with a burning heart at first. over time the heart will change into boredom, because it’s