The Green-Eyed Tattooed Man

Tattoos on his shoulders, a dragon down his back,
A samurai across his chest poised to attack.
He drives a tangerine-flake van.
He's the green-eyed tattooed man.

He plays a loud guitar, straight out of the swamp.
Sweat runs down his iron pecs in silver drops.
He's got a midnight moonlight tan.
He's the green-eyed tattooed man.

Five years ago he bottomed out.
His steady woman threw him out.
The beast, he changed his skin and grew a brand new head.
He came back, she let him in,
And raised him from the dead.

He's a jungle cat straight from Japan.
He's the green-eyed tattooed man.

By day a bodyguard, a whopping salary.
When he strolls the boulevard he's a walking gallery,
A Mona Lisa caravan.
He'll talk right at you, man-to-man.
He's the green-eyed tattooed man.

The Green-Eyed Tattooed Man

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