Elvis Died For You Elvis went to heaven babe, died for all our sins The son of God its his killer flares, sunglasses and sequins. Well I believe there´s poetry in the soul of every man, in Fl-ll fighters and Robert Duran, theres poetry in the leather that he wears like big mack trunks, theres poetry in the little pictures drawn on a million bucks. (Refrain:) Nah nah na na God ain´t in his heaven Nah na na he´s wearing blue suede shoes Nah nah na na God ain´t in his heaven Nah nah na na and Elvis died for you. There´s poetry on the air babe, sliding across the sky, Surfs right down on a radio wave and into my Hi-fi. I believe there´e poetry locked right up inside my skin, tigers caged in the guantam zone and I here them sing. Poetry howls like Ginsberg and raw plutonium, everything is holy, even the nuclear bomb. (Refrain:) Poetry´s under pressure sealed in an aerosol can, splattered all around on the ghetto walls and the skid row Ma-Khayam´s poetry dances on TV spins an the VCR. Poetry´s made in Scotland, they sell it behind the bar .... The presence of the divine in the mundane, kind of.