Songwriting in Memphis

Put on my black suede boots,
As I boarded the plane a day late,
Touched down in the land of the Delta blues
In the middle of a summer’s day.
I thought it was late December,
Dressed for the Chicago cold,
So I’m as hot as a girl can be.

So I’m sweating in Memphis,
Sweltering 10 feet off of Beale,
Sweating in Memphis,
Cannot believe how hot I feel.

Saw the ghost of Elvis,
In every souvenir shop,
Followed him through the gates of Graceland
With a few hundred of my closest friends.

They’ve got catfish on the table,
There is gospel in the air,
They said “Tell me are you are Christian child?”
I said in my best English accent, “No, actually I’m Jewish.”

Driving round Memphis,
Wish I had kept my feet on Beale.
Eating in Memphis,
Cannot believe how stuffed I feel.