Demon Rum

It may not be self-evident during the first read, but “Demon Rum” is a comic novelty song. The give away is to be found in the performance, during which the singer should affect some semblance of a coloquial Jamaican accent. (Ex., with sincere apologies to all Jamaican visitors: “Well, the Devil with you because the Devil with me is gonna be ol’ Demon Rum” might sound like “Weh, dee Debil wit you bee-cause dee Debil wit me eez gawn-na bee ol’ De-mawn Ruhm.”)

The faux accent, in and of itself, does not necessarily create the humor. I mean, if you’re a native of the Caribbean, you might not raise a chuckle performing this song. But hey, when a drunken white guy from the Great Midwest sings about alcoholism, sexual dysfunction, and self-destructive tendencies to an upbeat melody in a phony foreign accent, you get a sense of the comedy (or tragicomedy). And when your equally-plastered friends try to join in on the chorus, well, that can (sometimes) be downright hilarious.

I wrote this song after taking a graduate class in “process thinking.” That’s why, in the first verse, I traced the rum from its creation through to its distribution, consumption, and effect. And blah, blah, blah….

As with many of my songs, this too has a lot of internal rhyme and alliteration — which can lead to some tongue-twisting for the well-oiled performer. If you’re interested, you may check out the Lead Sheet for this song. (FYI: Demon Rum was my poison of choice, but I don’t use alcohol anymore. And so it goes.) — BD

Demon Rum

Words by David R. Lister

Down in hot Jamaica they raise a lot of cane
They distill it down until it’s golden brown
Put it in a bottle, then a boat or a plane
And it comes to this town in a truck or freight train
And then I buy my round and, yes, I drink it down
And then it ends up in my brain

(1st chorus)
Demon Rum, Demon Rum
I’m gonna go into town
Lay my money down and get me some
Just because I drink it
You think that I’m a bum
But the Devil with you
Because the Devil with me
Is gonna be ol’ Demon Rum

When I play the Victrola or while I’m watching TV
I sit and smoke, I sip my Rum-and-Coke
Or a frozen Daiquiri
I munch the crunchy granola, I eat the salted nuts
Orally gratified, I am so satisfied
Until the pain comes to my brain and my guts

(repeat 1st chorus)
Demon Rum, Demon Rum
I’m gonna go into town
Lay my money down and get me some
Just because I drink it
You think that I’m a bum
But the Devil with you
Because the Devil with me
Is gonna be ol’ Demon Rum

I am symbiotic with the horny devils in my head
So I consume the Rum and soon they want to come
And coax some lovely lady into bed
And if she feels erotic, she lets me be her guest
So then we get undressed and, yes, I kiss her breast…
But you will have to guess the rest

(2nd chorus)
Demon Rum, Demon Rum
We lay our bodies down
Try to go to town
And get us some
But when I’ve been drinking
Sometimes I cannot come
Well, the Devil with me
Because the Devil, you see
Has gotta be ol’ Demon Rum

Just like Jackson Pollock or Edgar Allan Poe
I abuse the booze to try to free the muse
And maybe get my stony thoughts to flow
Of course I’m self-destructive, I cannot tolerate pain
And so I drink the Rum, I make the guitar strum
And hope a song comes to my brain

Well, the Devil with you
Because the Devil with me
Is gonna be ol’ Demon Rum

It’s gotta be ol’ Demon Rum