By Jeff Willis
Once I lived down by the sea
In an old wood house with the name “Billy’s”
Eight shotgun shacks, front and back
But a view and a breeze they didn’t lack
All the residents I knew well
Each of them had a story to tell
Young and old, rich and poor
Bum and Saint passed Billy’s door
Oochee, the artist, lived in a cloud
Of his few pictures he was very proud
He paid no heed to critics unkind
For his best work was in his mind
To find Mr. Nelson you didn’t look far
Just underneath the nearest car
He had the devotion of a young Monk
To turn fine machines into hunks of junk
Markey rolled from his waterbed
Out through the window and onto his head
Then said to me in a state of shock
“Of my next six pack I’d better take stock”
I was the biggest fool of them all
Pretending to hear a different call
Working each day in the legal halls
Then rushing home to juggle some balls
Old black Jack lived in the back
And carried his Brandy in a paper sack
Cuban Bill cooked rice and beans
While perfecting his acting dreams
Christie, Roberta and Lenore too
Comprised the distaff side of the crew
O’Mara and Schley came by for the day
They were the members “honoree”
Friends dropped by to say hello
Have a beer and watch the show
On the Walk, Life did pour
Like blue waves crashing onto shore
Chorus
We started out most every day
With breakfast at The Lafayette Café
It felt like home as you opened the door
And were greeted by Ruby from Baltimore
Her life was hard but you”d never know
She laughed and joked as she poured our Joe
We carried little cash but had our fun
For the Great Cheap-off had now begun
Each day brought a new parade
Which we perused from Billy’s shade
The girls on the Walk were fair and free
And some even came to visit me
I remember one with long dark hair
She sang and danced with devil-may-care
I remember two with eyes of blue
They taught me things I never knew
Chorus
We dealt the cards, then dealt some more
With all who came through Billy’s door
Hearts and Spades we loved to play
But the losers always hated to pay
X-Swami-X stood upon his bench
And into our minds threw a monkey wrench
Donnie B Waugh was a sight to see
If Elvis was your cup of tea
Kim the Mudman carried a cross
In protest of some lost cause
Mimes and clowns and jugglers too
Performed for those passing through
Gurus and prophets of every kind
If you wanted to seek you could always find
Some took off to a higher plane
Some crash-landed inside your brain
Holy Moly, what’s that sound
Whose that jumping up and down?
Riding Pachyderms in orange gowns
The Hari Krishnas have come to town
Tippecanoe and Tyler too
Knew the Admiral of Peru
They smoked some hash with Fu Manchu
Then they danced the Boogaloo
`
Chorus
Friends moved on and left the fold
A few the devil bought and sold
Some went to pot on drugs and booze
We all had certain paths to choose
I ran on the sand to keep me fit
Then went downtown in my strait jacket
The Siren’s song, we were in its sway
I heard her call nearly every day
Though dollars and sense I could never hold
Each setting sun poured forth its gold
We all were Kings for a moment or two
When the evening breeze blew off the blue
Chorus
Hey, Hey, Hey we”re sailing away, if this dark night ever turns to day
Hey, Hey, Hey I won’t despair, the Jack of Hearts has paid our fare
Categories: Development/Gentrification, History, Poetry
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