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Well I saw a crowd a-gathered |
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Must've been somebody shot |
|
Reporters scribbled shorthand |
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And photographed the spot |
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I moved in a little closer |
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But I couldn't see no blood |
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Just a gold-plated chariot |
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Arisin' from the mud |
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Then I heard a soulful murmur |
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And it sounded like his voice |
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It began to sing, it was the King |
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It was Elvis' Rolls Royce |
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Now the wood-grained bar was open |
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Like he was about to have a drink |
|
A white-gloved chauffeur at the wheel |
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I never saw him blink |
|
The bobbies looked indifferent |
|
Clearly they were not amused |
|
It was just another auction piece |
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And it didn't matter whose |
|
D-Day was upon me |
|
And I had to make a choice |
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Next thing I know |
|
I'm at the wheel of Elvis' Rolls Royce |
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Well I made a left at Parliament |
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And hit the pedal hard |
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And I tipped my hat and I smiled |
|
As I passed by Scotland Yard |
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Now the voice is talkin' to me |
|
It says "There's nothing to fear" |
|
It was coming from the back seat |
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But there was no one in the mirror |
|
I got a little nervous |
|
I think I lost my poise |
|
As we crossed the great Atlantic |
|
In Elvis' Rolls Royce |
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When we got to New York City |
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The crowds went wild to say the least |
|
As I steered my precious cargo |
|
Through the belly of the beast |
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Then I took off down the Interstate |
|
And drove throughout the night |
|
Till I reached the state of Tennessee |
|
In the early morning light |
|
There they were, the gates of Graceland |
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My eyes got kind of moist |
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Home sweet home to rock'n'roll |
|
And Elvis' Rolls Royce |
