[Intro]
Tape from California, let's take it away

[Verse 1]
Who's that coming down the road?
A sailor from the sea
Looks a lot like me
I'd know him anywhere, had to stare
Feathers on his fingertips
A halo 'round his spine
Must have lost his mind
He should be put away, right away
In the corner of the night
He handed me his water pipe
His eyes were searching deep inside my head
Here's what he said

[Chorus]
Sorry I can't stop and talk now
I'm in kind of a hurry anyhow
But I'll send you a tape from California

[Verse 2]
New York City has exploded
And it's crashed upon my head
Dove beneath the bed
Fighting biting nails, turning pale
Landlord's at my window
And the burglar's at my door
I can't take it anymore
I guess I'll have to fly, it's worth a try
Someone's banging on the wall
But there's no party to recall
Singer of the shadows of his soul
So he's been told
[Chorus]
Sorry I can't stop and talk now
I'm in kind of a hurry anyhow
But I'll send you a tape from California

[Guitar Solo]

[Chorus]
Sorry I can't stop and talk now
I'm in kind of a hurry anyhow
But I'll send you a tape from California

[Verse 3]
So who's that coming down the road?
A sailor from the sea
Looks a lot like me
I'd know him anywhere, had to stare
Now a fire 'round his fingertips
A song around his spine
He must have found his mind
He should be put away, anyway
Surrounded by the slaughter
Now I'm boarding at the border
When the echoes of my ecstasy appear
Wish I was here
[Chorus]
Sorry I can't stop and talk now
I'm in kind of a hurry anyhow
But I'll send you a tape from California

[Outro]
As you know, I died in Chicago
I lost my life in a—
And I was giv— I went to heaven
Because I was very good and I sang very lyrical songs
And I got to talk to God and he said
"Well, it's all over here on Earth"
"And uh, a couple of days left, what do you wanna do?"
"You can go back and be anybody you want"
So I said—
So I thought, in my inner soul, who do I wanna be?
And I came up with the answer
The guy I wanted to be was
The man who was the king of, of pop
The king of music
The king of show business
Elvis Presley
And if there's any hope for this, for America, it lies in a revolution
And if there's any hope for a revolution in America
It lies in getting Elvis Presley to become Che Guevara
Because if you don't do that, you're just beating your head against the wall
Or the cop down the street will be beating your head against the wall
And that's Elvis Presley
You know, so the thing is
We've gotta discover where he is
He, I think, is the ultimate American artist
He has the root of American music
I've lost my voice now, but I'm gonna try to sing him anyway
Here it comes