One, Two, Three, Four, Elvis Walked Out the Door
And he Took Five, Six, Seven and Eight with Him.
So Now there’s only Nine and Ten Where it all Ends and Begins Again
And Where We Go from Here, Who Can Say?
So, Wallet, Pills, Phone, Keys, Place Head Firmly Between Your Knees
It Won’t Help a Bit but it’s Head Rush. It’s a Head Rush
That Modern Livin’ It’s a Head Rush
The general’s nails were bloody red, by his hands shall we be fed
On the Master’s Radio inside your head
Well Gold, Silver, Iron, and Clay, the bottom line, and the tunes that play
On the Master’s Radio inside your head
Thunder Rolled, tell me what I said, all God’s children better be in bed
On the Master’s Radio inside your Head.