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Bono as a lyricist


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I love some of Bono's lyrics, and sometimes I feel he never gets the credit he should for it. I will be back with examples of the lyrcis I love :)

What do you think?

Edited by bluegrace
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Couldn't agree more, I often refer it to as "pearls of wisdom" or "words to live by", some are really pretty deep. The first ones (out of so many) just off the cuff here:

 

When you stop seeing beauty
You start growing old
The lines on your face
Are a map to your soul 

When you stop taking chances
You'll stay where you sit
You won't live any longer
But it'll feel like it 

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One of my favorite lyrics is, " between the horses of love and lust, we are trampled underfoot."

 

And my motto lyric is, "she's gonna dream up the world she wants to live in. She's gonna dream out loud."

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One of my favorite lyrics is, " between the horses of love and lust, we are trampled underfoot."

 

And my motto lyric is, "she's gonna dream up the world she wants to live in. She's gonna dream out loud."

Yes, that is such a beautiful line.  Bono is a poet.

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The city's a flood, and our love turns to rust.
We're beaten and blown by the wind
Trampled in dust

 

I think 'live' it's changed to 

 

Seasons blow, and our love turns to rust.

We're beaten and blown by the wind
Trampled in dust

 

Either version affects me

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Bono is an amazing lyricist!!

 

She said it wasn't cold 

She left her coat at home that day 
She wore canvas shoes 
White canvas shoes 
Around her neck 
She wore a silver necklace 
It was given to me by my father, she said 
It was given to me 

She took the back way home 
Passed the lights and the summer hill 
Turned left onto the north strand 
And on, and towards the sea 

He said he was an artist 
But he really painted billboards 
In large capital letters 
Large capital letters 
He was telling jokes 
Nobody else would listen to him

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It's no secret that a conscience can sometimes be a pest
It's no secret ambition bites the nails of success
Every artist is a cannibal, every poet is a thief
All kill their inspiration and sing about their grief

 

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And you can swallow
Or you can spit
You can throw it up
Or choke on it
And you can dream
So dream out loud
You know that your time is coming 'round
So don't let the bastards grind you down

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