Late at night in Rosie's Pub in a room marked 666

You can hear some wicked music as the devil [treats?] the mix

And if you dare to venture where the Tennessee waters flow

On a mattress in the corner, you'll find the legend from Mayo

Aside the piles of dishes, and the charred remains of priests

Underneath the bedclothes, between the mouldy sheets

Lies the mother of all pluckers, the high priest of freaks

The legend on the mattress, is the man they call "The Beast."