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The Web Poetry Corner - M A Heathcote - The Ballard of Billy Jennings

The Ballard of Billy Jennings

by

M A Heathcote

In his youth,
Billy Jennings was a rebel...
Whoíd like to dance beyond?
Each midnightís lock-up bell...
And double-up and treble-up.
And wish his soul to hell.

But now his youthful health
It isnít so damn good or hot.
'Whisky, Jenny' has him all shot-up
And blown to smithereens
And each night, now, he speaks
A little mumbled prayer too me your lord
Sometimes itís mumbled-up Jenny
Into the static silence of the air!

And double-up and treble-up
And double-up and treble-up.

Doubled-up with a lonely pain
Oh god...Take me dancing...
In hers and your ephemeral care
For each midnight, now, only brings me
A dried-up empty feeling...
With no-one else to blame!

Oh god, take me dancing...
In Jenny's and your ephemeral care
In your name god, Lord God, show him
Some little mercy, lord god,
It isnít easy if youíre on the wagon...
And your shame has only just begun.

To double-up and treble-up.
To double-up and treble-up.

Because you killed your drinking buddy
Your lover, your babe, your Jenny who is me!
With the shaking... hammer of a gun.
Just after a quarrel in what started-out
As just a bit of green eyed jealousy
A little bit of fun!
A bit of green eyed jealousy Billy Jennings it's all gone, wrong.

You blew me away...
Oh lord, show him some mercy
Lord god it isnít easy (for him!)
Dancing beyond this midnightís double.
Drop of whisky, vodka and gin.

Take him away... Carry him
Through each and every day
Take him dancing beyond that bullet
That laid me buried here beneath the grass.

Lord god, it isnít easy
If youíre a rebel
A burly big brute of a fellow
Wishing only to love your one Cinderella
Oh lord god show him some mercy
And let him know Iíve finally forgiven him.
Every drop of blood '40' percent in his veins!
Now, going, rank.

Lord show him the way
To beat all them demons down
In that midnight, just you, try, try
Try for me and Billy Jennings to be around.
When he hears again that shaking hammer
That midnightís toll
Show him your heaven
And grant mercy upon his soul.


To visit all of M A Heathcote's poems, click HERE


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