Billy Markham’s Last Roll

“Good morning, Billy Markham, it’s time to rise and shine."
The Devil’s words come grindin' into Billy’s burnin' mind.
And he opens up one bloodshot eye to that world of living death,
And he feels the Devil’s bony claw and he smells the Devil’s rotten breath.
“Wake up, Sunshine!" the Devil laughs. “I’m giving you another turn."

“I’m turning now," Billy Markham growls. “Go away and let me burn."

“But you’re Gamblin' Billy Markham," says the Devil, “and you wouldn’t let a chance go past."

“Another chance to roll thirteen?" says Billy. “Hey, shove it up your ass.
I’ve rolled your dice, I’ve rolled 'em twice. Now I hear my love ones cry,
And before I play that game again, I’ll stay here in Hell and fry."

“You sure are a grouch when you wake up," says the Devil, “but don’t take it out on me.
In the misty worlds of Heaven and Hell, Bill, everything’s done in threes."

“Well, you can take three kisses of my burning bum," says Billy, layin' back and closing his eyes,
“And I’ll piss on your shoe, if ever you come near me again with them flyshit dice."

“Dice? Dice?" says the Devil. “Who said dice? Anybody hear me say dice?
Hey, imp, pour my buddy here a cool glass of water, and throw in a nice big chunk of ice."

“And since when," says Billy, raisin' up, “do you go around handing out gifts,
Except pokes from your burning pitchfork or mouthfuls of boiling shit?"

“Well, it’s Christmas," says the Devil, “and all of us down here below,
We sort of celebrate in our own sweet way, and this year you’re the star of the show.
Why, just last night I was up on earth and I seen that lovers' moon,
And I said to myself, 'Hey, I bet old Billy could use a little bit of poon."

“Poon?" says Billy Markham. “Last thing I need is poon.
Talk about gettin' my ashes hauled, Hell, I’ll be all ashes soon."

“Damn, damn!" the Devil screams. “He’s been too long on the fires.
I told you imps to fry him slow, now you gone and burned out his desire.
You gotta leave 'em some hope, leave 'em some dreams, so they know what Hell is for,
'Cause when a man forgets how sweet love is, well, Hell ain’t Hell no more.

So just to refresh your memory, Billy, we’re gonna send you back to earth
And I’ll throw in a little Christmas blessin' to remind you what life is worth.
For exactly thirteen hours you can screw who you wanna screw
And there ain’t no creature on God’s green earth who’s gonna say no to you.
While me and all these burning souls and all my imps and fiends,
We’re gonna sit down here and watch you on that big twenty-four-inch color screen.
And we’ll see each hump you’re humping, and we’ll hear each grunt you groan,
And we’ll laugh at the look upon your face when it’s time to come back home."

“Well, you’re much too kind," Billy Markham says. “And you treat me much too well.
You gonna give me somethin' just to take it back -- you sure know how to run a Hell.
Well, a game is a game," Billy Markham says, risin' off his bed of coals.
“But what if one won’t ball me, what if one I want says no?"

“No?" says the Devil. “What if one says no? Ain’t nobody gonna say no.
Nobody quits or calls in sick when the Devil calls the show.
Not man nor woman nor beast!" screams the Devil, “and no laters or maybes or buts,
And before one soul says no to you, I’ll see these Hell gates rust.
But if anyone refuses you, I say, anyone you name,
Then you’ll be free to stay on earth.
Now get out and play the game!"

Then a flash of light and a thunderclap and Billy’s back on earth once more
And the asphalt sings beneath his feet as he weaves toward Music Row.
First he stops at the Exit Inn to seduce the blonde on the door,
Then the RCA receptionist he takes on the office floor.
He nails the waitress down at Macks, the one with the pear-shaped breasts,
And four of the girls from B.M.I. right on Frances Preston’s desk.
He screws his way from M.C.A. to Vanderbilt’s ivy walls.
And he pokes everything that giggles or sings or whimpers or wiggles or crawls.
First Debbie, then Polly, then Dotty, then Dolly then Jeannie, and Jessie, and Jan,
Then Marshall and Sal and that redheaded gal who takes the tickets at Opryland.
Then Hazel and Carla and an ex-wife of Harlan’s then Melva and Marge and Marie,
And three fat Gospel singers who all came together in perfect three-part harmony.
And Brenda and Sammy and Sharon and Sandy, Loretta and Buffy and Mae.
And Terri and Lynne at the Holiday Inn and Captain Midnight’s fiance.
Then Sherry and Rita, Diane and Anita, Olivia, Emmy and Jean,
And Donna and Kay down at Elliston Place -- right there in the pinto beans.
He crashes a session in Studio B, where he humps both Janet and June
On John Gimble’s fiddle, right in the middle of a Porter Wagoner tune.
From Connie to Bonnie to Caroline, to Tracy, to Stacy, to Jo,
He gives 'em a glance and they drop their pants and nobody dares say no.

He is humpin' the Queen of country music, when he hears the Devil moan.
“Make it sweet, Billy Markham, but make it short, you’ve got just thirty seconds to go.
And all of us here, we’re applauding your show and we’d say you done right well,
And we just can’t wait to hear you moan when you’re fuckless forever in Hell."

“Hold on!" says Billy with one last thrust. “If I got thirty seconds mo',
Then I got the right to one last hump before it’s time to go."

“Well, make your choice," the Devil says, “and you’d better be quick and strong,
And make it a come to remember, Bill -- it’s gotta last you eternity long."
“So who will it be, Billy Markham?" they scream. “Who’s gonna be the one?
Starlet or harlot or housewife or hippie or grandma or shoolgirl or nun?
Or fresh-scented virgin or dope-smoking groupie or sweet ever-smilin' stew?"

And Billy Markham, he stops. . .and he squints at the Devil. . .and says. . .“Sucker. . .I’ll take you."

“Foul!" cries the Devil. “Foul, no fair! The rules don’t hold for me."

“You said man or woman or beast," says Bill, “and I guess you’re all of the three."

And a roar goes up from the demons of Hell and it shakes the earth across,
And the imps all squeal and the demons scream, “He’s gonna fuck the boss!"

“Why, you filthy scum," the Devil snarls, blushing a fiery red,
“I give you a chance to live again and you bust me in front of my friends."

“Hey, play or pay," Billy Markham says. “So set me free at last,
Or raise your tail and hear all Hell wail when I bugger your devilish ass."

“You got me," spits the Devil. “Go on and stay on your precious earth,
And plod along and plug your songs, but carry this life-long curse.
You shall lust for a million women, and not one’s gonna come your way,
And you shall write ten million songs and not one’s ever gonna get played.
And your momma and daughter and your own true love, they gonna stay down here with me,
And you’ll carry the guilt like a movable Hell, wherever the Hell you be."

“Ah, well," says Billy Markham, “they never were mine to lose,
No family, no pussy and no records, Hell, I’m used to them kind of dues."

So back on the streets goes Billy again, eatin' them Linebaugh’s beans,
Pickin' his songs while nobody listens and tellin' his story that no one believes.
And he gets no women and he gets no hits, but he says just what he thinks.
Hey, buy him a round. . .it won’t cost much . . .ice water’s all he drinks.
But notice the burns upon his wrist as he raises his tremblin' glass,
While he tells how the Devil once burned his soul --
While he singed the Devil’s ass.