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Skid
Row in Los Angeles
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Recorded at
Moonlight Studios
Music, Vocals & Arrangement by
Dave Vasquez & Jeffrey Lewis
Hear David perform
his song "The Gospel of Billy".
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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 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 started 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
For someone to 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 down on Skid Row cared,
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 could sing of the fear and trembling,
And scare you just like hell,
But the one thing Billy never did,
Was write songs would sell. |