Jimi Hendrix
Jimi Hendrix
James Marshall "Jimi" Hendrixwas an American rock guitarist, singer, and songwriter. Although his mainstream career spanned only four years, he is widely regarded as one of the most influential electric guitarists in the history of popular music, and one of the most celebrated musicians of the 20th century. The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame describes him as "arguably the greatest instrumentalist in the history of rock music"...
NationalityAmerican
ProfessionMusician
Date of Birth27 November 1942
CountryUnited States of America
Looks like my baby dont live here no more...thats alright, ive still got my guitar...............................(more lyrics)..................i might as well go back over yonder, way back across the hills, if my baby dont love me no more....i know her...sister will
It's funny the way most people love the dead. Once you are dead, you are made for life.
It's funny how most people love the dead, once you're dead, you're made for life.
The story of life is quicker than the blink of an eye, the story of love is hello, goodbye.
..the sweet love between the moon and the deep blue sea...
May I love you away from the evils of today to the dreams of tomorrow, you know heaven has no sorrow.
You don't have to be singing about love all the time in order to give love to the people. You don't have to keep flashing those words all the time.
The time I burned my guitar it was like a sacrifice. You sacrifice the things you love. I love my guitar.
It's funny how most people love the dead, once you're dead your made for life.
The story of love is hello and goodbye... until we meet again....
When the power of love overcomes the love of power the world will know peace.
Yes, it was raggedy. Yes, it had its problems. Yes, he did some things that he probably felt afterwards it wasn't a great idea to experiment onstage in front of a half-million people,
We started doing some stuff, just hooking up doing gigs. He got a little bit too far out from me. Stuff he was doing, I didn't want to do.
A broom is drearily sweeping, up the broken peices of yesterdays life. Somewhere a queen is weeping, Somewhere a king has no wife, And the wind cries Mary.