Tom: D major
Intro 1
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We take you now to a suburban
Verse 1
bedroom
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where a six -year -old boy is sur
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rounded by Elvis and paraphernalia.
I'm Furious Mother,
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I'd love to be no other
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At six my hair's not hard enough
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to grow sideburns
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He was five foot eleven,
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and I'm only four feet seven
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His hair looks black on GI
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Blues, my hair is blonde, but what's to lose?
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I'm getting tetchy,
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his Ve gas looks so fetchy
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But my bedroom isn't Caesar's
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Palace or Graceland
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My cat sees black but his is white
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I squint my eyes with all my might
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My microphone's a plastic toy
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The fact is I'm a spastic boy
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I'm not Elvis, my tracksuit tells me so
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But Presley had a chance to grow
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But he's as dead as they don't know
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And therefore smells a bit so sour
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Oh, please believe me,
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the stories don't deceive me
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The king has never really
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He's living in my garden shed
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I serve his food and make his bed
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It sounds bizarre so don't ask why
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The truth is he was passing by
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I'm not Elvis
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My hound dog tells me so
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But in my shed I hear him play
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His greatest hits most every day
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I must admit he sounds okay
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