Elvis & heartbreak
Graceland was never his true home.
he’s in the penthouse suite
where the ghosts of the broken roam.
the crowds are thick on lonely street
marching in time to heartbreak’s beat.
my steel guitar sings a mournful sound
they judged me a killer
but the corpse wasn’t found.
released from the hollows of jailhouse rock
they welcome me here, on this lonely block.
my window is marked by the Tennessee rain
my soul bums a ride on a Memphis train.
my heart’s still chained to a long gone lover
so hold me, Elvis
…just hold me, brother.