Occupation: Lyricist Birth: November 18, 1909 Death: June 25, 1976
Don't mess with Mister Inbetween..
She's nobody's fool so I'm playing it cool as can be. I'll give it a whirl but I ain't for no girl catching me..
Arthur Murray taught me dancing in a hurry..
Hooray for Hollywood..
It takes more talent to write music, but it takes more courage to write lyrics..
The days of wine and roses laugh and run away like a child at playThrough the meadow land toward a closing doorA door marked "nevermore" that wasn't ….
Day in, day out. That same old voodoo follows me about..
Things never are as bad as they seem..
When my life is throughAnd the angels ask me to recallThe thrill of them allThen I shall tell themI remember you.
Once upon a time the world was sweeter than we knew. Everything was ours; how happy we were then, but then once upon a time never comes again..
The falling leaves drift by the window The autumn leaves of red and gold.... I see your lips, the summer kisses The sunburned hands, I used to hold S….
So you met someone who set you back on your heels - goody, goodyYou met someone and now you know how it feels - goody, goody.
Skylark,Have you seen a valley green with SpringWhere my heart can go a-journeying,Over the shadows in the rainTo a blossom covered lane?And in your ….
Fools rush in, where wise men never go, But wise men never fall in love, so how are they to know?.
Skylark Have you anything to say to me? Won't you tell me where my love can be?.
There's a long goodbye,and it happens every day,when a passerbyinvites your eyeto come away.Even as you smile a quick helloyou let her go,you let the….
I remember too, a distant bell...and stars that fell...like the rainout of the blue..
When the sweet talkin's done, a man is a two face, a worrisome thing who'll leave you to sing the blues in the night..
From Natchez to Mobile, from Memphis to St. Joe, wherever the four winds blowI been in some big towns an' heard me some big talk, but there is one th….
That old black magic has me in its spell, That old black magic that you weave so well; Icy fingers up and down my spine, The same old witchcraft when….
You must write for the waste basket..