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Billy Dee

Billy Dee was seventeen when he turned twenty-one

fooling with some foolish things he could've left alone

but he had to try to satisfy a thirst he couldn't name

driven towards the darkness by the devil in his veins

all around the honky tonks, searching for a sign

gettin' by on gettin' high on women, words and wine

some folks called him crazy, Lord, and others called him free

but we just called us lucky for the love of Billy Dee



Busy goin' his own way and speakin' his own words

facin' and forgettin' every warnin' that he heard

makin' friends and takin' any crazy chance he could

gettin' busted for the bad times and believin' in the good

Billy took a beatin' from a world he meant no harm

the score was written in the scars up on his arm

some felt he was payin' for the life he tried to lead

but all we felt was sorry for our good friend Billy Dee



It may be his soul was bigger than a body's oughta be

singin' songs and bringin' laughter to the likes of you and me

cause the world he saw was sadder than the one he hoped to find

but it wasn't near as lonesome as the one he left behind

yesterday they found him on the floor of his hotel

reachin' towards the needle, Lord, that drove him down to hell

some folks called it suicide, others blame the speed

but we all called it crucified when Billy Dee O.D.'d

Крис Кристофферсон

Billy Dee / Крис Кристофферсон

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