Kunci: E major
Verse 1
D
I was running fast in I -61,
maybe three hours outside
of Memphis,
making good time and driving smooth,
on course for the Elvis Presley
souvenir shopping mall and pharmacy.
Even though it was only a 51 Hudson,
it was running like a dream,
and about the only thing that
stopped it being a perfect day
was I couldn't get anything on the radio
but Bobby Rydell Howard Stern or Oral Roberts,
who was threatened to strike me dead
if I didn't send him money.
All in all, though, I was
feeling pretty good,
which made it come as
something of a major surprise
that I never made it to Memphis.
It was probably my own fault.
I should never have taken
those pills
that were offered to me in the men's room
by a Mexican in a lime green
matador suit
that not even Prince
would have the gold to wear.
I was in this Denny's along the way.
I'd only pulled in for a cup of coffee
and a pack of cigarettes
and some Jim Thompson fantasy
about the waitress.
Never stopped a place
that only serves non -alcoholic beer.
Moosey, Den, Moosey, Den, Jack.
Now, Mexican wanted five
bucks a pop
for these suckers.
Maybe I shouldn't have taken ten,
but I was in the mood for
conspicuous consumption,
and the ghost of Elvis was
at my shoulder.
I should have suspected
that something was up
when the Mexican made a secret
hand signal and vanished.
Carlos Castaneda comes
in all shapes and sizes.
Even then, though, there in the men's room,
I never thought that I wouldn't
C
D
make it to Memphis.
I guess it already started
with the flickerings
at the corners of my eyes
that I dismissed at the time
as being a result of not having slept
for 48 hours straight.
The bats came later.
At first they were content to loiter
in the periphery of my vision,
but after a while they got real bold
and started flying alongside
the car in formation,
D
like they were on their way to bomb Dresden.
It really got bad
when I was going down this
slight incline.
There wasn't another car in sight.
Then I ran into this waist -deep,
hammer horror
Edgar Allan Poe missed.
And I began to realize
that I wasn't going to
make it to Memphis.
Now, after I hit the mist,
all I can get on the radio
D
an d the signs are written in Hittite,
D
and at any moment Rod Serling is going to come
D
D
marching through the windshield
D
and offer me for your consideration.
Oh, God, oh, Graceland,
D
am I in a lot of trouble.
I have lost all sense of motion
and my hands are turning blue.
And there's definitely something wrong
with space and time.
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And the Hudson has started to glow.
D
D
D
Oh shit! Here comes the monolith!
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What did I do to finish up here?
Some post -Einstein zombie
flying Dutchman in a wormhole
I can't get out of
because in here there's
no concept of out.
Life's a bitch and then you're infinite
and I never made it to Memphis.
D
D
I never made it to Memphis.
You hear me?
I never made it to Memphis.
I never made it to Memphis.
D
D
I never made it to Memphis.
I'm sorry. sorry. sorry.
Because... ...tell you what,
that's what you were meant to be.
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