Billy was a dancer

I made this into a painting for an East London charity event for a dancefloor associate: www.muckrock.co.uk

Billy was a dancer  Billy was a player

Billy Billy Billy was a rock n roll sinner

His talk was higher than mountains, His stride could stretch cartoon

No one knew his comedowns were from the darkside of Pink Floyd’s moon

Billy worked in clubs      Billy made us heroes

Billy Billy Billy an address unknown cherub, snorting up the zeros

Leader of friends forever through Hoxton fields, mission to keep thirst a’quenched

Can’t remember anything, mate, just pints of reflection, losing dates upon his bench

Billy was a legend Billy was a saint

Billy Billy Billy gave everything but the silver spoon he bent

Then Billy went missing for a summer, didn’t turn up in the winter freeze

People kinda noticed, for a second, but carried on getting wired on Es

Billy was a reference point Billy a notch in the caner’s bar

Billy Billy Billy could be anyone in this joint, from here to neon far

Then someone said they’d seen Billy limping with a stick, asked him whether he’d finally taken his last trip,

He laughed saying he’d given up his legs for lent, caught in fate’s fatal pistol whip, bent triple over on a health descent

Billy was so slick Billy was so cool

Billy Billy Billy never said I’m sick of being sick, or too lame to rule

A Bowie zigzag wiggled mysteriously right across the iris of his eye, tattooed like a tear, got everyone tongue-tied,

You see Billy had been told by the docs that very soon he would drop and die

Billy swung around the pub like a sign of fear  Billy had become a moral outcome

Billy Billy Billy he’d taken the penance for all their beer

Have you seen old Billy, how he staggers on his dancefloor throes,

He’d never join the God squad, and he’s taken down our odds, he’s still on the front row

Billy was the omen of ravers to repent,  Billy became the mascot of a life in dayglo well spent,

Billy Billy Billy don’t prove it futile and pull down your tent, first try this dose, fresh in from Mousta of Tashkent

The old school joined together, did what they do best, arranged a disco lightening party four to the floor, like none before,

Fearful of catching Billy’s rubbish legs, they raised enough money to buy a cure to stop his jiving hips going the same way as Orwell’s 1984

Billy was never lost in space

Billy never fell to the bed of disgrace, tired of being tired

Billy Billy Billy was never bored by boredom, he was just the first to fall from planet We Are Ace

The glitzed and the skinflintorama raised enough cash to carry Billy right on up past the pearly gates, but he stayed down near the tombstones shouting ‘Mate, one more tune, my illness will then abate’

He always knew the raving served better than any doctor could, but this last party bought Billy his magic cure, and he was tip top healthy for ever more.

Billy is a dancer  Billy is a player

Billy Billy Billy is a rock n roll sinner

www.kirstyallison.com 2010

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