I was running fast on I 61
Maybe three hours outside of Memphis
Making good time and driving smooth
On course for the Elvis Presley
Souvenir shopping mall and pharmacy
It was only a '51 Hudson
But it was running like a dream
And about the only thing
That stopped it being a perfect day
Was that I couldn't get anything
On the radio
But Bobby Rydell, Howard Stern
Or Oral Roberts
Who was threatening to strike me dead
If I didn't send him money
All in all though
I was feeling pretty good
Which made it come as a major surprise that I
Never made it to Memphis
It was probably my own fault
I should never have taken those pills
That were offered me in the men's room
By a mexican in a lime green matador suit
That not even prince would have had the gall to wear
In was in this Denny's
Somewhere along the way
I'd only pulled in for a cup of coffee
A pack of cigarettes
And some Jim Thompson fantasy about the waitress
Never stop at a place that only serves
Non alcoholic beer
Mousy Den
Mousy Den, Jack
The mexican wanted five bucks a pop for these suck-ers
Maybe I shouldn't have taken ten
But i was in the mood for conspicuous consumption
and the ghost of Elvis was at my shoulder
I should have suspected that something was up
And vanished
Carlos Castenada comes in all shapes and sizes
Even then, though, there in the men's room
I never thought that I wouldn't make it to Memphis
I guess it all really started
With the flickerings at the corners of my eyes
That I dismissed at the time
As being a result of having
Not slept for forty eight hours straight
The bats came later
At first they were content
To loiter in the periphery of my vision
But, after a while,
They got real, real bold
And started flying alongside the car
In formation
Like they were on their way to bomb Dresden
It got really bad
When I was going down
This slight incline
There wasn't another car in sight
And then I ran into this waist deep
Hammer horror,
Edgar Allen Poe mist
And began to realize that
I wasn't going to make it to Memphis
Now after I hit the mist
All I could get on the radio
And now the signs are written in Assyrian
And, at any moment. Rod Serling
Is going to come marching through the windshield
And offer me for your consideration
Oh God! Oh Graceland!
Am I in a lot of trouble
I have lost all sense of motion
And my hands are turning blue
And there's definitely
Something wrong with space and time
And the Hudson has started to glow
Oh shit... here comes the monolith
What did I do
To finish up here
As some post Einstein zombie flying dutchman
In wormhole that I can't get out of
Because, in here, there's no such concept as out
Life's a bitch and then you're infinite
And I never made it to Memphis