Smells Like Elvis
David Brown
“I can’t be your Daddy ” he said
Stood in the doorway in a floral dress
She didn’t know how to take the news
So she asked him where he got the shoes
“No longer Simon you must call me Simone
I gained an ‘e’ and I lost a bone”
And as he twirled and said, “What do you think?”
The meter started running at the shrink
Now, I may dress like Elvis
And I may talk like Elvis
And lift my lip like Elvis, when I start to sing
Now I may eat like Elvis
Even change my name to Elvis
But something smells like Elvis,
‘cause I ain’t the King
I ain’t the King
Can’t be the latest model all your life
Can’t doc’ the clock with a surgeon’s knife
All you can do is give the tyres a slash
Old rusty banger with a walnut dash
Who gets the highest score on the sad rating?
The fat, lonely guy who dies while he’s defecating
Or the guy who spends his life trying to imitate him
Here is something I don’t understand
Each place I look I see a tribute band
How much are we willing to pay
To queue to see a fake Monet? |