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I came, and I sang. I partied from sea to shining sea, but I never played at the Tennessee Opry. I went to war, and I fucked some whores. I sweated all over Priscilla Presley, and she had 1/2 of American men jealous of me I could sing all night and play, and I was banned from 100 all you can eat buffets. There will never be another fat Elvis bellowing out my beloved tone, I can’t believe I died while taking a sweaty dump on my porcelain throne. My dying words, they are rock ‘n’ roll lore, I went out saying to myself, “I don’t remember eating any corn.”