A Quote by Shelby Lynne
I don't think I've ever put it in words before. But daddy took a gun and ended his life and took momma's with him.
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Happiness Is A Warm Gun not about heroin. A gun magazine was sitting there with a smoking gun on the cover and an article that I never read inside called 'Happiness Is a Warm Gun.' I took it right from there. I took it as the terrible idea of just having shot some animal.
It took a week for me to be able to take the gun apart, put the gun back together, get the ammunition and load, all the while keeping my eyes down the scope, which was something I'd never had to do before.
Or perhaps a widow found him and took him in: brought him an easy chair, changed his sweater every morning, shaved his face until the hair stopped growing, took him faithfully to bed with her every night, whispered sweet nothings into what was left of his ear, laughed with him over black coffee, cried with him over yellowing pictures, talked greenly about having kids of her own, began to miss him before she became sick, left him everything in her will, thought of only him as she died, always knew he was fiction but believed in him anyway.
I took a chance, I took a shot And you may think I’m bullet-proof, but I’m not. You took a swing, I took it hard. And down here from the ground I see who you are
Once upon a time, a long time ago, a man took off his jacket and put on a sweater. Then he took off his shoes and put on a pair of sneakers. His name was Fred Rogers.
We spoke about our dreams and how we always felt safe in them, no matter how bad everthing else seemed. He told me it was one of the best days of his life and then he took out his gun. A .22 rifle. And he leaned forward and whispered, "Forgive me, Taylor Markham." Before I could ask how he knew my name and what I was to forgive him for he said, "Take care of my little girl." And then he told me to close my eyes. And I've been frightened to do just that ever since.
From a town known as Wheeling, West Virginia Rode a boy with a six-gun in his hand And his daring life of crime made him a legend in his time East and west of the Rio Grande. Well, he started with a bank in Colorado In the pocket of his vest a Colt he hid. And his age and his size took the teller by surprise, And the word spread of Billy the Kid.
Oh, my god!” I said to Reyes, my eyes radiating accusations at him. “She took your picture? Just what kind of game are you playing? You’re under arrest, mister.” His mouth tilted and a dimple emerged on one cheek as I took his wrist and threw him against a wall. Or, well, urged him toward it. I held him against the cool wood with one hand and frisked him with the other.
For Dad, service took him many unexpected places. It summoned him and his crew mates to the skies over the Pacific Ocean in World War II. It took him to Capitol Hill, Beijing and eventually the Oval Office.
When the guy with asthma finally came in from the fire escape, Parker rabbit-punched him and took his gun away.
James Brown came from that hard, rough life that I came from. He took the blues and added rhythm to it. And he always had the most funkiest band; I liked the way he took his words and mixed it in with the band.
Lagrange, in one of the later years of his life, imagined that he had overcome the difficulty (of the parallel axiom). He went so far as to write a paper, which he took with him to the Institute, and began to read it. But in the first paragraph something struck him that he had not observed: he muttered: 'Il faut que j'y songe encore', and put the paper in his pocket.' [I must think about it again]
The foolish took their lamps, but took no oil (pursued ministry as their priority over getting oil). The wise took oil in their vessels with their lamps (pursued oil as their priority before ministry). At the dark midnight hour of history, the Spirit will raise up forerunners who cry out that Jesus is coming as a Bridegroom God and that we must go out to meet Him (make the necessary effort to encounter Him). They all slept which speaks of living in context to the natural processes of life.
It wasn't his, it wasn't my fault, we both had nothing except patience, but Death has none. I saw him come (how meanly!) and I watched him as he took and took: none of it I could claim as mine.
Somebody scoffed, Oh, you'll never to that - At least no one ever has done it; But he took off his coat and he took off his hat, And the first thing we knew, he'd begun it.
No one ever saw all of him. It took me nearly four decades to allow my father his shadows, his reserve, to sit silently with him and not clamor for something more.
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