One of Many
Through thick and smoky air inside a busy bar in Memphis
I settled down to drink beside a tired-looking Elvis.
Absently I asked if I addressed the honest deal;
He snorted, took a swig, and he said "Tell me: what is real?"
"For screaming mobs I sang and rocked my pelvis for a fee;
Their desperate eyes, in tears, perceived a God that wasn't me
And so I came to know that only death would set me free."
"One day I got away--I went to Elba more or less.
I spent my time in unfamiliar quiet happiness.
The music called me back, but now I move about unseen:
I have an army of my counterfeiters as a screen."
"In me the people found a fragile King they couldn't save.
Now they just believe in copies, not the archetype they crave.
And they're right--I'm not the light--I'm just a shadow in a cave."