Lyrics:
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
Eyes crusty when he wakes up
Regrets of how he got his cake up
Last night he did some shit he couldn't even make up, make up
2pm on the clock man he
that we take claim
We love the Lord for what He is, what He was
We praise Him because
What He did, what He does
He gave His life ya'll and He did it for
That there's some things in this world you just can't explain.
The old man lived in the Wooley Swamp way back in the gurgling woods
And he never did do
objection to this treatment
of his newly met hero and was rewarded by kicks and
punches until he could no longer speak. Eriel's heart
sank. Had he
right now I'm booing you
What did Kobe, Gigi and them other passengers do to you? (What they do?)
My condolences at this time is all I could offer
Kobe
the white man did
Nor the deal or the way that he lied
There was blood on the floor of the government store
When the men took his daddy away
But the boy
Don't you know, he was the king of saxophones
Yes indeed he was;
Talkin' 'bout the guy that made it sound so good
Some people knew him by the Bean
Don't you know, he was the king of saxophones
Yes indeed he was;
Talkin' 'bout the guy that made it sound so good
Some people knew him by the Bean
the floor
With people bangin on him, or even hangin on him
But what he did best, above all the rest was...
"A player that can leap, with the best
it
He has his two angels to encourage he can't show it
Had a job interview a day before and couldn't blow it
But right after it was over ever since
Jack O'Rion was the finest fiddler ever fiddled on the string
He could drive young ladies wild with a tune his wires would sing
He could fiddle
one full of guts and glory
No this is the story of a young kid
Who fought a huge beast, yeah that's what he did
And throughout the battle, he gave it
song
They sold me by factor on decrease alone
It was His own sovereign choice
That He would snatch me up out of the grave
Took me up, turned me
What did you care?
etc. etc.
*
Anything and everything can be so easily institutionalised,
A poor parody of itself. Itself contained by itself.
to pray
I can't believe what he did that day
Suicide, that ain't the way to go
But he was indecisive about a way to go
Suicide, that ain't the way to go
But
early, did some dirt and then jetted
But I can tell you he was hurt, and he'll always regret it
He didn't see it then but sees a lot now
I know 'cause he's
Cabbagefoot.
UNCLE WALTER:
...he said.
SKEETER:
But you can call me NOT your grandpa!
UNCLE WALTER:
...uh, he said.
SKEETER:
’Cause I ain’t!
UNCLE WALTER:
Whatever it was, it was electrifying
He was going to do it or he would die trying
He groped for the last of his slow-dying hope
He pulled himself up by
asked him if he
Would give me guitar
Lessons he was a young man from Spain, and
We could only communicate in my
Broken French and his broken
French he
down by the cathedral
Where the floodlights point up at the steeples
Choir practice was filling up with people
I can hear the sound escaping
all the words he used against me were what he thought about himself,
So he pinned all his flaws on me to feel good about himself, and whenever I did
riches and them cars
But she just wanted a better family
Because her parents divorced early, her papa, he was taken by the force
Mother on crack and she
of the dearly departed
Tyrone survived by his mother Barbara
His two year old daughter T'want to
And the baby's mamma Sandra
[He's a murderer! That animal
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