Down At The End Of Lonely Street
Down At The End Of Lonely Street
Sat in the Tupelo hardware store
Waiting for a buyer to arrive
A price tag hanging from my neck
Six dollars ninety five
When a woman and a scrawny kid
Come through the big glass door
Her name is Gladys the proprietor says
And they both look run down poor
It’s January nineteen forty six
Close to his birthday I’m told
He comes across and stares at me
He looks about eleven years old
“I believe you wanted a bicycle
Or a gun” his mother says
But that scrawny kid just shakes his head
On this day of special days
My name is Kay and the salesman
Slips my strap over his head
Adjusts me so the angles are right
And says, as his fingers are spread,
“Here’s an ivory pick young man”
And he takes it from his hand
And makes me speak for the first time
And my voice echoes across the land
His uncle Vester had taught him
Where to place his fingers on the frets
So the boy strums hesitantly
And the salesman says ‘hold all the bets,
This kids gonna be massive
Of that there is no doubt”
And the kid smiles wide and swaggers
as he gets his money out.
He treated me with reverence
And showed my off to all his friends
And I guess you know by now
Just where this story ends
It’s been told a million times
You all know it well
Elvis Aaron Presley sets out
for a room at the Heartbreak Hotel.
jennifer Malden
Wed 17th Apr 2019 18:26
Great poem! No-one else has ever has such a sensual voice as Elvis, not even Sinatra or Bublè.
Jennifer