Search results for hes here by eddie james

We've found 246 lyrics, 100 artists, and 100 albums matching hes here by eddie james:



His head is full of Goose Green 
 Tastes the smoke from the damp grass, well alight 
 And Eddie's waiting for the choppers 
 And he goes on waiting
it too

All his fans in New York loved him
There's no one above him
Here in the USA
I've heard 'em say ol' Eddie was the man

Oh how he could
it too

All his fans in New York loved him
There's no one above him
Here in the USA
I've heard 'em say ol' Eddie was the man

Oh how he could
it too

All his fans in New York loved him
There's no one above him
Here in the USA
I've heard 'em say ol' Eddie was the man

Oh how he could
it too

All his fans in New York loved him
There's no one above him
Here in the USA
I've heard 'em say ol' Eddie was the man

Oh how he could
fans in New York loved him
There's no one above him
Here in the USA
I've heard 'em say ol' Eddie was the man

Oh how he could sing
Man did he swing
it too

All his fans in New York loved him
There's no one above him
Here in the USA
I've heard 'em say ol' Eddie was the man

Oh how he could
it too

All his fans in New York loved him
There's no one above him
Here in the USA
I've heard 'em say ol' Eddie was the man

Oh how he could
Eddie's got one crazy eye
That turns him into a cartoon
When a pretty girl comes by
And there's nothin' here to do anymore
He sits on the stoop
ain't cruel, but everybody's so ready to bend up the rules.
Now there's Chuck, staring at Delores. 
Eddie is distracted by Samantha so he doesn't notice.
I told James Brown stop smokin angel dust and the pis-tal

He wanted to go up to the Olive Garden and start a restaurant brawl
"Mary J. Blige, my
By Bob Farrell & Eddie DeGarmo

I walk along this winding road
Too many voices tell me which way to go
Sometimes this heart gets so confused
I need
don't give a fuck
I went up in the club
And like a thousand niggas
A thousand chicks
Was doing the James Brown
Get the fuck out of here
I'm like oh
Saturday
A forty five to blow away anyone who happens to disagree
With such panache and style, he wins the game
When all the while, I'm sitting here thinking
it too

All his fans in New York loved him
There's no one above him
Here in the USA
I've heard 'em say ol' Eddie was the man

Oh how he could
The sun is setting
And you're right here by my side
And the movie's playing
But we won't be watching tonight
Every look, every touch
Makes me
My neighbor Carl, he lives next door
Pink flamingos on his porch
At night he teaches driving school
And he sits out by his plastic pool
He takes off
somehow someway, better days ahead, Freddy's dead
And Betty said Eddie's a fed
Sweaty in bed with a nine to his head
And he fucking with this hood-rat
Lord, I wonder what could happen?
Ain't nobody here but me
All these empty bottles on the table here
I know I didn't drink all this by myself
I
Lord, I wonder what could happen?
Ain't nobody here but me
All these empty bottles on the table here
I know I didn't drink all this by myself
I
Well I lay my head on the railroad track
 Waiting on the Double E
 But the train don't run by here no more
 Poor poor pitiful me

 Poor poor
Well, I lay my head on the railroad track
Waiting on the double E
But the train don't run by here no more
Poor, poor pitiful me

Poor, poor
From East Asheville Hardware
..............................................

by Chuck Brodsky

Every morning, I commute.
Mild-mannered man. In
His dad was a miner and his granddad was too
There was never much question about what he might do
By the age of thirteen he had laid down his pen
to eliminate your total existence
With falsehood and lies
And he's succeeding in doing it!

Now here's a verse about a relative, that coulda lived
But