Lyrics

Through the window of a TV store, I watch him come unglued
Grandma said that ain’t for kids, but she stood there and watched him too
That rhythm burned inside my head and it 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?

So I hung that guitar on the wall, bought some steel-toed shoes
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?

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, well 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?