Final wild son

Starting out from Ferraday like a runaway bus
Moving north toward Memphis in a cloud of highway dust
Rolling to the rhythm of a sound he never hears
He's possessed by something which never comes quite clear
Although it might be coming from above
It always brings him down

I'm sorry Mr. Phillips about Presley and the rest
But as you know I'm Elmo's boy, I'm different from the rest
From Tupelo to Natchez they all answer to my name
Their belief in God above is driving them insane
And if I die before I wake, there'll be no soul left to take

Hellfire is a-callin' like a leper come a-crawlin'
Kicking down the doors of your life
Yeah, the women and the wine are just gigs you left behind
They ain't gigs when they's your life

Hellfire is a-bawlin' like some baby come a-crawlin'
Kicking down the doors of your life
Yeah, the women and the wine are just gigs you left behind
They ain't gigs when they's your life