A thick plush blue carpet at my feet A peaco*k stained gla** window staring back at me A nine foot crushed white velvet sofa in the hallway There's a TV in the kitchen She's cooking in her panties flipping them little sandwiches likes she's flipping her hair sure is nice to have someone to hold me I'm the king of kings you see Everything you need Baby, I'm Elvis I got a hundred golden records in this one room I got fifty golden knobs upon my door
I got one black twenty-five foot stretch Cadillac to drive you home Downstairs there's a room in the basement It's mostly made of yellow and black Some folks call it the jungle I just think its a nice place to relax Once a year they all come to see me I watch them throwing flowers at my toes There's a line that stretches down the driveway Past my plane and ends at the gift shop