Lyrics

Through the window of the TV store, I watched him come unglued
Grandma said: "that ain’t for kids," but she stood there and watched him too
That rhythm burned inside my head - spilled out into my hands
I hung on every word he said, but I did not understand

So I bought myself a cheap guitar - strained my voice to scream
Set my little world on fire in the shadow of the king
And I know it may sound selfish now
To claim it’s destiny
If I can’t be Elvis, what else could I be?

Through the golden age of stereo I rode the rising tide
I let that fever fuel my soul - stoned and starry eyed
But money changes everything, and heroes rise and fall
When the headlines read: “The king is dead,” did it even hurt at all?

I hung that guitar on the wall - bought some steel-toed shoes
And wandered through a world of graveyard shifts and union dues
Justified and helpless - safe but never free
If I can’t be Elvis, what else could I be?

I pulled that box of 45s out the closet in the hall
My name scratched under Sun in purple ink
And though I couldn’t play ‘em, I still heard that southern drawl
Searched until I found one I could sing

Then I dusted off that old guitar - hummed some sacred line
That echoes in the ghettos of some distant place and time
And I know it still sounds selfish, but that’s alright by me
If I can’t be Elvis, what else could I be?
If I can’t be Elvis, what else could I be?