Graceland Lullaby

We see his hand, stretched out not grasping,
And Graceland is so far away.

Through a hot cicada night a pink Cadillac drives the midnight road,
Crickets sing “Return to sender” under a blue moon,
And a lazy salamander cries “Love me tender” as he slinks upon a jailhouse rock,
Baying like a hound dog in blue suede shoes,
And Graceland is so far away.

Like a dream’s shadow a dark figure of a hitch-hiker flits along the sleepy roads.
Truckers tell tales of him,
His soft Tennessee tones in the velvet folds of the cloak of night,
Always gone before light and morning,
Always a half-forgotten trace of old songs played on the radio in the wee small hours,
And Graceland is so far away

Copyright © Max Scratchmann. All Rights Reserved