Blue Suede Sunday Dream

She kept a velvet Elvis in the hallway by the stairs. Said he watched

her every night like a saint whisperin' prayers. Every Sunday mornin', she wore her

blue suede shoes, said the king was comin' back and it was her

he'd choose. She talked about the concert that never reached the stage,

kept a ticket in her Bible tucked between the page. Said the king

would rise in Memphis brighter than the dawn. She'd be sittin'

front row though the show's long gone.

Long live the lady who prayed for the king, building her life