Really Elvis

Harry’s hungover, he’s asleep in the shade and I want to lay out in the sun.
This vacation was his idea, getting drunk’s his idea of fun.
So I drag my beach chair down near the surf and I listen to the seagulls screech
And as I’m dreaming of love, he’s standing above me, Elvis on the beach.

He’s trim and tall and bronzed and lean as a god from a Grecian isle.
He’s sporting wraparound sunglasses and that thick DA hairstyle.
As he walks so self-assured, in those swimtrunks he’s got something to teach
“Hey, baby, what’s up?” and he smiles that smile.  Elvis, on the beach

Elvis!  It’s really Elvis!  Walking alone by the sea.
In the casino last night his pants were so tight, he rocked me into ecstasy
Well, he’s standing right above me, now, and I really don’t know what I’ll do
When he leans down whispers, “I like that bikini.  How’s about a midnight rendezvous?”

So I read until Harry is snoring and Elvis is done with his show.
I dab on French perfume here and here and here, and close the door quiet and slow.
My knees are knocking and my heart’s on fire as I rise to his penthouse suite
And Elvis is crooning, “Love me tender,” as we drift out on his balcony.

It’s Elvis! It’s Really Elvis!  At last I got a real man
Who tells me what will please him and I’m doing the best that I can.
Then he shows me the woman I knew I was in the deepest depths of my soul
Who never imagined what she’d do for love when a real man takes control.

And in the morning three dozen roses are delivered to my hotel room,
And the “Tribute to Elvis” show has moved down the road and I walk alone in the dunes.
When a real man loves you completely, you know your life has been saved
And if my friends could-a seen me then, but I’m taking this one to my grave.

Elvis?  Really, Elvis!  Look what you gone and done
You made me a natural-born woman who can never love another one.
Now Harry and I are back in Westchester and I know that I’m living a lie
For in those secret places of a woman’s heart, Elvis, you will never die
You got me all shook up
You ain’t nothing but a hound dog
And Little Elvis fits like a hand in a glove ‘cause I’m a hunka-hunka burning love

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