Every night while Im undressin,
sayin my prayers and lightly confessin,
I can hear hot licks
from a set of drums upstairs.
Well, it couldnt be Johnny cause he isnt there;
Johnnys overseas. We no not where.
But, believe it or not, every night on the dot
I can hear a tenor drum say:
Billy-a-dick, Billy-a-dick, tick, tack.
Whens that character comin back?
Whens that kid in the G.I. lid
gonna choo-choo down the track?
Poor ol me, Im beat as can be,
and my rim has even started to rust.
Look at these sticks tryin to take out the licks,
theyre covered with an inch of dust, beep-a-dust.
Billy-a-dick, Billy-a-dick, tick, tack.
Whens that character comin back?
Whens that boy with the jumpin joy
gonna launch that last attack?
If hell roll, roll, roll like a drumstick;
Chewin, chewin, chewin on a gumstick.
Jack, well soon have a Japenese derby
and beat it like a cymbal on a music rack.
Billy-a-dick, Billy-a-dick, tick, tack.
Whens that character comin back?
Whens that boy with the jumpin joy
gonna launch that last attack?
If hell roll, roll, roll like a drumstick;
Chewin, chewin, chewin on a gumstick.
Jack, well soon have a Japenese derby
and beat it like a cymbal on a music rack.
Billy-a-dick, Billy-a-dick, tick, tack.
Billy-a-dick, Billy-a-dick, tick, tack.
Billy-a-dick, Billy-a-dick, tick, tack.
Whens that character comin back, Mom?
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