The Almost Complete Ballad Of Tommy Houston

I’ve posted parts of this before but this is the first time I’ve posted it in its entirety. For those of you who may not realize some of the language could be considered rough. I hope you enjoy:

The Ballad Of Tommy Houston

Part 1, Born On A Winter’s Night

On a cold and dark December night
Tommy Houston first saw light;
his eyes, though young, stared at a full moon,
left in a ditch to die too soon.
His mother was a Boston witch,
known far and wide, an evil bitch
who cared for no one live or gone.
She abandoned Tommy all alone.

A newborn babe, he learned to crawl,
but never cried as his life he clawed.
He pulled himself from in that ditch
and vowed to kill that sorry bitch.
He learned to live on vermin there,
snakes, bugs, and frogs, lice from his hair.
A taste for blood the young child knew;
killed his first hare ‘fore he was two.

Though still a child, the age of three,
he spied a drunk on bended knee.
He threw himself upon the wreck
and sank his teeth in the poor drunk’s neck.
They found his teeth marks on the bones
strewn far and wide, Tommy’s wooded home.
The sheriff raised a posse then
to find young Tommy, drag him in.

They hauled him in; took fifteen men
‘fore they could finally reign him in.
A child of three gone desperate wild
a mystery, this viscous child,
the hangin’ judge said, “This can’t be,
I cannot hang a child of three.”
And so it was, Tommy Houston’s spared,
the sheriff ordered, “Take him far from there.”

To the wilderness, they hauled him far
in a steel lined vault in a railroad car
to the wilderness where only bears
and the devil’s vermin stand a prayer.
There in the woods they put him out
to meet his death. there was no doubt.
‘Twas then young Tommy killed a bear
and dressed himself in bear fur there.

And folks ‘round here, until this day
say Tommy kills all who might stray
into the wild, the darkness there,
his curdled howl, it fills the air.
The panther, wolf, grizzly too,
avoid the land where Tommy grew,
and only things of poison grow
on the footsteps where Tommy Houston goes.


Part 2 Tommy Meets The Devil

Was the coldest night on record
with snow ‘bout three miles tall.
Tommy, in the wilderness,
knew this might be all.
A frozen soul, young Tommy cried,
“For heat I’d brave through Hell!”
and so begins another tale
of the Devil we know well.

“Did someone call me?” words were spoke
but none were there to see.
Tommy shouts, “Who teases me,
I’m freezing, can’t you see?”
“’Tis only me,” the Devil said,
his eyes a burnin’ red,
“Perhaps I can assist you, Sir,
before you’re frozen dead.”

“I’ve heard of you,” young Tommy spoke,
“could it be you’re really true?
Could it be you are the Devil, Sir,
the cold plays tricks on you.”
“’Tis I, but I, the only one,”
the Devil, he did say,
I’ve come to take you where it’s warm
by night or light of day.”

“I’m still alive, I will not go.
You see, it’s not my time.”
The Devil laughed, “Young Tommy, Son,
do you always speak in rhyme?
Come, go with me, we’ll leave this place,
I’ll take you where it’s warm,
and you can stay there if you like,
or leave after the storm.”

“Don’t lie to me, I’ll kill you, Red.
I’ve killed so many more.
“Tommy, Tommy,” the Devil said,
“I’ve heard men boast before.
Besides, I’d never lie to you,
can’t I do just one good turn?
You said yourself, it’s not your time
for your soul with me to burn.”

“Okay, I guess,” young Tommy said,
“it’s cold here in these hills.
I could use a little warming up
so my fingers I could feel.
And if you’re lying, you can bet
I’m the one to take you down,
so go on, Devil, lead the way
to your hole deep in the ground.”

“You foolish boy, I’ll not save you,”
the Devil laughed to fill the night.
“I’d rather let you freeze to death
than have your soul tonight.
You foolish boy, you foolish boy,
you will be mine one day,
but you’ve still got more hell on Earth
before you come my way.”


Part 3 Tommy Meets His Bride

Was down along the border
there in old Mexico,
Tommy Houston rode to town
to see a girlie show.
A fire, it burned inside his soul
like nothing else he’d know
so day and night he whipped his mule
as far as it would go.

He’d heard about the girlie show
up on the northern plain,
braved snow and ice, and deserts dry
to seek out his refrain.
Was something Tommy needed bad
but Tommy didn’t know
and all that he had on his mind
were things he dared not show.

The night was dark,
an old cliche that had been Tommy’s life.
The man that every mortal fears
had come to take a wife,
and so it was, he rode to town
ashamed and all alone
with one ambition, find a bride
and drag her to his home.

All the men ran from the bar
when Tommy, he walked in.
The bartender, he trembled,
asked, “Se, what’s your choice of sin?”
Tommy looked around the room
at a senorita there,
said, “A bottle of your finest brew
and the beauty with raven hair.”

“But Sir, I fear you do not know,”
the bartender shook his head,
“that one, she is chosen fast,
and will leave you with but dread.”
Tommy yelled, “Don’t lie to me!
She’s the finest in the inn
and any who get in my way
will end up more dead men!”

“Okay, okay, I cannot say,
se, the choice is up to you,”
the bartender, he did explain,
there’s others who will do.”
“I’ll hear no more!” young Tommy screamed,
tearing off the bartender’s head
to leave him in a pool of blood.
“He’s better off there dead.”

What is this thing, young Tommy thought,
that creeps into my mind?
A feeling I cannot control,
and worse than being blind.
The raven beauty smiled at him
and tossed her jet black hair,
whispered, “Little one, your time has come,
I’ll meet up up the stairs.

Was with a single mighty bound,
he leaped two flights of stairs
to be there when she reached the top
and touch her skin so fair.
And as she lead him to her room,
the door he’d close behind;
little did young Tommy know
he’d soon be less his mind.

She rode him hard, rode him wild,
like few men never know.
For days and days they both screamed out
as the town listened below,
but in the end she did him in.
She broke young Tommy’s heart,
for when he finally went to sleep
she slipped out in the dark.

Young Tommy woke, ashamed, alone,
he’s slept almost a week.
“I’m not about to let her go,
I’ll track her ‘til we meet.”
And so it was, he fell in love,
tracked a trail already cold,
said, “I’m gonna have her back someday
or die out on the road.

Was years and years, Tommy searched
across this whole great land,
sailed ‘round the world a time or two;
he tracked her to Japan.
And everywhere that Tommy searched,
death made every single lair
for every man who knew her well
died of the Raven’s glare.

He walked into a seer’s house,
his heart was aching so.
Said, “I’ve been around this great big world
looking for the one I know.
Can you help me please, I’ve lost my way,
and don’t know where to go?”
The seer smiled with broken teeth,
said, “It’s these things I must know.”

“Sit in this chair,” the seer said,
“I’ll get my crystal ball,
peer inside, I’ll look around,
answer your questions, all.”
But as she looked inside her ball,
the seer, she did cry,
“This one is the Devil’s bride,
to have her you must die.”


Part 4 The Devil’s Minion Massacre

Tommy Houston went to town
his six guns at his side.
Said, “I’m the fastest in the West,
would anyone like to try?”
He walked into the barroom,
looked around with steely eyes
to see the Devil standing there.
Yes Sir, he was surprised.

The Devil said, “They tell me Son,
say you’re the best,
but you’re not that good you see.
The last man tried me went to Hell
and now he rides for me.”
But Tommy Houston didn’t cry, he didn’t say a word,
except to say, “Take your best shot.”
I swear that’s what we heard.

The noon day sun was bearing down
as they walked out in the street.
The dust enough to choke a mule
but not bad as the heat.
And though his boots, they leapt with flames,
Tommy never broke a sweat
and the Devil wondered, could it be
this one could owe no debt?

The Devil’s minions counted down
from ten to almost three
when the Devil spoke, “How ‘bout a bet?
Are you a gambling man, Tommy?
For if your are there is a chance
that you might save your soul,
avoid eternal misery
o’er a bed of red hot coals.”

Was Tommy said, “Let’s hear your bet,
but make it quick for I’m a busy man.
I’ve not all day to fool with you.
It just ain’t in my plans.
So Devil, tell me of your bet,
could it be you’d wage me fair
or are you simply killin’ time
while your minions sneak back there?”

“Oh Tommy, Tommy, I’ll not cheat,”
said the devil with a grin.
“My minions, they’ll not shoot your back,
but please, just hear me then.
If you can gun my minions down
I’ll never seek to draw,
but if one minion should survive
your soul is mine to call.”

Said Tommy to the Devil
as he took a look around,
“There’s not that many, ten or twelve,
I’ll leave them on the ground.”
The Devil said, “Well fair is fair,
we’ll know when all is done,
but just in-case you have forgot
counts two and now it’s one!”

(“Ha, ha, ha!”)

The Devils minions, they rushed in
and Tommy opened fire!
But one by one as each one fell
their numbers just got higher!
Each time one fell ten more were born,
they came from everywhere!
And as the Devil twirled his guns
the crowd could only stare.

The battle raged for hours on
as Tommy gunned them down,
loading one gun with his teeth
as the other shot its rounds.
Each time he’d fire ten more would rise
from the piles of bodies there,
and though they did the Devil’s work
he didn’t seem to care.

All through the day into the night
for weeks the battle raged
until the bodies were so high
they seemed to make a cage.
And Tommy fired, oh yes he fired,
a million shots were probably spent,
and all the while the Devil laughed,
drinkin’ shots for just ten cent.

Then all at once no shots rang out.
All was still, first time in days.
The Devil said, “I think he’s done,
his soul is mine today.”
But as we all were standing there
Tommy climbed atop the mound,
said, “Devil, are you really done
or should I climb back down?”

The Devil screamed, “You’ve killed them all,
my minions are no more.
Every soul that Hell doth hold
will burn in Hell no more!
Eternity, I gathered them,
but one man guns them down?
Tell me Tommy, is it true,
my thoughts you now confound?”

Was Tommy said, “that can’t be all,
could Hell hold just one more?
I didn’t come here to be saved,
I came to settle scores.
You see there, Devil, all I want
is all that you call yours,
but Hell without your minions,
what good could that be for?”

Was then the Devil knew the truth,
“You came here just for me.
You came to take all that I have
and all I’ll ever be.
And I was fooled, yes oh so fooled,
you’re worse than even me.”
Was then we saw his trembling hand
as the Devil prayed, “Tommy.”

So fear the Devil never more.
It’s Tommy you should fear.
He whips the Devil every day.
His screams you’ll sometimes hear.
For Hell is Tommy Houston’s now,
he took the Devil’s place,
and while young Tommy laughs aloud
the Devil prays for grace.

Maybe I’ll write more someday. Maybe not.

Comments

[Stacey]

I am never going to fear meeting the devil himself, but will avoid meeting Tommy Houston (LOL) :-O

[Billy The Blogging Poet]

Stacey,
Something tells me Tommy would like you.

[Terry McDermott]

This was very original. I also love Shel Silverstein.

[Danny]

That was a great folk ballad. Hope you write some more, it seems Tommy's got a lot more adventures in him yet.

[Billy The Blogging Poet]

Terry and Danny,
Thanks!