In the Beginning

Here's a sweet thing
for the boys at Sun in the Memphis days
when the King was young,
when Carl was picking like his rhythm was the only one.

Spinning gold with Sam,
oh, and Big John strumming with a mighty hand,
and the Killer rolled.
With their pompadours shaking they came rocking on the radio.

In the beginning it was poodle skirt bedlam,
cloud nine, Daddio, sing hard, break hearts.
In the beginning it was flames and gasoline,
hot sweat, screaming teens,
speeding up the pop charts.

They set the world on fire
with a torch that passed from the lost highway
and a lone blue note
that Mr. Johnson stole from the devil at the crossroads.

In the beginning it was poodle skirt bedlam,
cloud nine, Daddio, sing hard, break hearts.
In the beginning it was flames and gasoline,
hot sweat, screaming teens,
speeding up the pop charts.

So here's a sweet thing
for the boys at Sun in the days long gone.
Oh, and some died young -
but they're living in my memory like the rhythm to an old sweet song.