I am the entertainer. And I know just where I stand. Another serenader. And another long-haired band. Today I am your champion. I may have won your hearts.
Once long ago, all the faithful held a show. Down in Elvis Presley Blvd. on Memphis Radio. Where the hopeless held a vigil and the nameless played the charts.
Well, it's been building up inside of me. For oh, I don't know how long. I don't know why but I keep thinking. Something's bound to go wrong. She looks in my eyes.
You don't have to talk all night. I'm a man who can't say no. You don't have to twist my arm. Just point me where you want to go. . Take me to the action.
All the waiters in your grand café. Leave their tables when you blink, oh. Every dog must have his every day. Every drunk must have his drink. . Don't wait for answers.
Everybody's got a million questions. Everybody wants to know the score. What you went through. It's something you. Should be over now. . Everybody wants to hear the secrets.
Well I know you got your troubles. But I've got problems of my own. It's all relative you see, what happiness should be. And we got to work it out alone..
Blackout, heatwave, .44 caliber homicide. The buns drop dead and dogs go mad. In packs on the west side. Young girl standing on a ledge looks like another suicide.
Let me tell you a story. About a woman and a man. Maybe you will find familiar. Maybe you won't understand. . The man's name I don't remember. He was always joe to me.
Careless talk. That's what you heard about me. Jealous talk. That's what I heard about you. Everybody's telling lies. I don't even know why. Why can't people.
Let me tell you a story. About a woman and a man. Maybe you will find familiar. Maybe you won't understand. . The man's name I don't remember. He was always joe to me.
Saturday night and you're still hangin' around. Tired of living in your one horse town. you'd like to find a little hole in the ground,. for awhile.. .
Here I am again. In this smoky place. With my brandy eyes. I'm talking to myself. You were the one. You were the one. . Here I go again. Looking for your face.
Here I am again. In this smoky place. With my brandy eyes. I'm talking to myself. You were the one. You were the one. . Here I go again. Looking for your face.
Some days when I'm far away. In a lonely room in a cold seclusion. Some nights when I'm wound so tight. There is no release, there is no solution. In hell there's a big hotel.
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From a town known as Wheeling West Virginia. Rode a boy with a six-gun in his hand. And his daring life of crime. Made him a legend in his time. East and West of the Rio Grande.
Well you went uptown riding in your limousine. With your fine Park Avenue clothes. You had the Dom Perignon in your hand. And the spoon up your nose. And when you wake up in the morning.
Why can't I lay low. Why can't I say what I mean. Why don't I stay home. And get myself into some boring routine. . Why can't I calm down. Why is it always a fight.
(Let me, uh, lemme introduce the members of the, uh, of this orchestra here. On, uh, on the saxophones and keyboards, Mr. Ritchie Cannata. On a Fender bass, Mr. Doug Stegmeyer. On an electric and acoustic guitar is Mr. Howie Emerson. [kazoo] On, uh, the drums is Mr. Liberty DeVitto. I also got a, uhThis is kinda special night for, uh, the guy who is my, uh, my sound engineer whose been with me since I started atat least six or seven years, um, tonight its his, uh, 25th, Brian Ruggles is 25 tonight. So thats, uh, this is for Brian.).