Search results for it just aint right by harry nilsson

We've found 10,086 lyrics, 100 artists, and 100 albums matching it just aint right by harry nilsson:



you're killing me
The bottom line ain't all that it's cracked up to be

Harry's hands keep holding on
Harry's heart keeps on beating strong
Born
It's not very long that you spend on this earth
She'd never know just what Harry was worth
She'll never know

He walked the wet sands of summertime
Getting the cash
Leon works ‘til
Joey’s just a pattern in the carpet
Harry shakes his head and puts the package in his jacket
‘What?’ says Leon
‘Ain’t
him wiggle out of it! hound him mercifullessly until you receive a suitable answer!

Harry:
Now, just hold yourself in abeyance, rhonda! I'll handle
doin'...work on jumbo evvy time! go on! get de lil' pompadour up in de air again! I lik
Part! hmmm! jes' like de olympics!

Harry:
It's-it's fascinating the way
By Harry Nilsson A.S.C.A.P and Richard Starkey M.B.E.


STOP AND TAKE THE TIME TO SMELL THE ROSES,
STOP AND TAKE THE TIME TO FILL YOUR NOSES,
STOP
look at this! I got it right over her
Ere! see it? my big, brown, briefcase! my briefcase! it's big, harry! it's full of business papers...from my
Beautiful morning
There's no place I'd rather be

I sit right down and I rest awhile
By a shady tree
Golden rows of summer
Stretched as far as I can see
a store
Got more than what they bargained for
They shot them right before my eyes
All three just dropped like flies
If they only thought before they did
By michael mcdonald/grady walker/harry garfield

If we could dream our lives away
That would be just fine
Without the cares and fears that prey
their money
You just stay right here, sit tight

And we could buy a pitbull
And name him after harry
We could be famous
And then we'll get married
of the cubicle, ‘Oh!
Alright, Ron?’
Ron tapped his nose
‘You ain’t got a spare line?’
Harry smiled, ‘No sweat.’
Handed him the wrap and said, ‘I’m going for
friend Flash Harry thinks he knows what it is 
Tin Pan Alley Fat Head Larry don't know shit 
Just trying to keep her happy 
There's no laughing in
'Cause every time I turn on the news
I see a blac kman gettin' cuffed by blues
It's like a fight fixed, you throw a right kick
In the daytime get bashed
trumpet playing band
It ain't what they call rock and roll
And the sultans played creole

And then the man he steps right up to the microphone
And says
playing band
It ain't what they call rock and roll

And the Sultans
Yeah, the Sultans played Creole, Creole

Then the man, he steps right up
say you go down, you just made your pay
All he want is fame, pull him on the poster
Playin’ with my bred, it gets you burnt by the toaster
Grind for
That catch the lights up on the Ferris wheel
But what I really want I just can't buy

Here comes the twenty first century
It's gonna be much better
[lyrics by Harry Conklin]

If you wanna find some action then this is the place to be
If you want hell you've got it, just ask and you shall receive
Since we made love alive
But there ain't nothin' wrong
There just ain't nothin' right

Oh, there ain't nothin' wrong
There ain't nothin' right
We're still
tell you just a little bout what it means to be a winner
He said now you see these bright white smilin' teeth you know they ain't my own
Mine rolled away
commited
By some cowards with no name
Who took it upon themselves
To send her up in flames
Now I just dont see how it can be
A constitutional right
hold the rope
But they hope to the pope
And pray it ain't dope
The follower of Farrakhan
Don't tell me that you understand
Until you hear the man
the corner
Drunk and dressed in their best brown baggies and their platform soles
They don't give a damn about any trumpet playin' band
It ain't what they call
You get something really wicked - when you spend an E-ticket - High adventure on the sea, - but it's not the life for me - Now those harry tatooed