Èñïîëíèòåëü: Elvis Presley

Êîìïîçèöèÿ: King Creaole

King Creole

There‘s a man in New Orleans
 Who plays rock and roll
 He‘s a guitar man
 With a great big soul
 He lays down a beat
 Like a ton of coal
 He goes by the name of King Creole

You know he‘s gone, gone, gone
 Jumpin‘ like a catfish on a pole
 You know he‘s gone, gone, gone
 Hip shaking King Creole

When the king starts to do it
 It‘s as good as done
 He holds his guitar
 like a tommy gun
 He starts to growl
 From way down his throat
 He bends a string
 And ‘that‘s all she wrote‘

Well, he sings a song about a crowded hole
 He sings a song about a jelly roll
 He sings a song about meat and greens
 He wails some blues about New Orleans

Well, he plays something evil
 Then he plays something sweet
 No matter what he plays
 You got to get up on your feet

When he gets the rockin‘ fever
 baby, heaven sakes
 He don‘t stop playin‘
 ‘Till his guitar breaks
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