David Pacifico

   The Gospel of Billy (Music & Lyrics by David Jacks) 

© Copyright 1979 by David Jacks.  All rights reserved. BMI

 



Skid Row in Los Angeles
___________________________________

Acoustic, Bass & Electric Guitars: David Jacks
Keyboards & Synthesizers: David Jacks
Vocals & Percussions: David Jacks
Produced by: David Jacks

Hear another great arrangement
of "The Gospel of Billy"
from the early 1980's
.

 

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He could sing about a dead man up on a tree,
And fill your heart with love,
He could sing a Hallelujah Chorus,
And you’d swear the angels were right above,
He could sing of the fear and trembling,
And scare you just like hell,
But he couldn’t if he had to save his soul,
Write a song that would sell.

Now the Gospel of Billy,
Started out in a Texas town,
Where his daddy had preached of hell fire,
Until he, in liquor, drowned,
Billy picked him up a guitar,
Started singing gospel hymns,
And the townsfolk swore,
It was some gift of God to them.

Yes, he could sing about a dead man on a tree,
And fill your heart with love,
He could sing a Hallelujah Chorus,
You’d swear the angels were right above,
He could sing of the fear and trembling,
And scare you just like hell,
But he couldn’t if he had to save his soul,
Write a song that would sell.

One night some friends took Billy,
To a honky-tonk across town,
Where a country-western singer,
Was bringing the house down,
With rhinestone boots,
And neatly coiffured platinum hair,
Billy watched as his close friends,
Were mesmerized right there.

Billy said, ‘I can pick a guitar
Better than this cowboy fool,
I can write songs with more meaning than
All his country-mumbo bull,’
Billy packed up his guitar,
Headed straight for Nashville town,
But you can probably figure out,
Bill’s best did not go down.

Still, he could sing about a dead man on a tree,
And fill your heart with love,
He could sing a Hallelujah Chorus,
You’d swear the angels were right above,
He could sing of the fear and trembling,
And scare you just like hell,
But he couldn’t if he had to save his soul,
Write a song that would sell.

Well, the years passed and Billy,
Even tried out Hollywood,
He got into the very things,
He’d told his dad that he never would,
Burying his troubles,
Into booze and pills each day,
Billy wound up slopping soup,
Down on Skid Row in L.A.

One night a local evangelist,
Came preaching to bums’ lost souls,
But they weren’t listening,
Their minds on soup and hot rolls,
The preacher gave up and asked,
Could anyone sing a song before the food arrived,
And that was the glory night,
They say Old Skid Row came alive.

Billy sang about a dead man on a tree,
And filled their hearts with love,
He sang a Hallelujah Chorus,
They swore the angels were right above,
Billy sang of the fear and trembling,
And he scared them all like hell,
And no one gave a damn,
That his music wouldn’t sell.

Yes, he could sing about a dead man on a tree,
And fill your heart with love,
He could sing a Hallelujah Chorus,
And you’d swear the angels were right above,
He'd sing of the fear and trembling,
And scare you just like hell,
And no one gave a damn,
If his music wouldn’t sell.

  © Copyright 2009 by David Jacks. All Rights Reserved. The information you receive online here is protected by the copyright laws of the United States. The copyright laws prohibit any copying, redistributing, retransmitting, or repurposing of any copyright-protected material.