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Die Like Elvis
Mike Stools
Oh, let me die like Elvis -
Sitting on the bog,
A burger in my left hand
And another in my gob,
A Tennessee fine bourbon
Or a bottle of champagne,
A cocktail of narcotics
Coursing through my swollen veins.

I wish to die like Elvis,
Oh, it would be such a treat,
My bum cheeks resting firmly
On that Gracelands toilet seat,
My penis dangling in the bowl
Unhindered by erection,
My great fat hairy arsehole
Looking back on its reflection.

I've got to die like Elvis.
It's the only way to go,
Not like old Abe Lincoln
Who got shot while at the show,
Not like Jesus Christ our lord
Who bled upon the cross,
And not like Robert Maxwell
'Bout whom no one gave a toss.

Only Elvis knew the way to
Exit from his stage,
'Midst golden taps and porcelain,
Not khaki, puce or beige.
We all should die like Elvis
In style and elogence.
If I cannot die like Elvis then
I'll cark it in the Gents.



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