| Lyrics |
Billy Dee was seventeen when he turned twenty-onefooling with some foolish things he could've left alonebut he had to try to satisfy a thirst he couldn't namedriven towards the darkness by the devil in his veinsall around the honky tonks, searching for a signgettin' by on gettin' high on women, words and winesome folks called him crazy, Lord, and others called him freebut we just called us lucky for the love of Billy Dee
Busy goin' his own way and speakin' his own wordsfacin' and forgettin' every warnin' that he heardmakin' friends and takin' any crazy chance he couldgettin' busted for the bad times and believin' in the good
Billy took a beatin' from a world he meant no harmthe score was written in the scars up on his armsome felt he was payin' for the life he tried to leadbut all we felt was sorry for our good friend Billy Dee
It may be his soul was bigger than a body's oughta besingin' songs and bringin' laughter to the likes of you and mecause the world he saw was sadder than the one he hoped to findbut it wasn't near as lonesome as the one he left behindyesterday they found him on the floor of his hotelreachin' towards the needle, Lord, that drove him down to hellsome folks called it suicide, others blame the speedbut we all called it crucified when Billy Dee O.D.'d
|