42 Years





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Uploaded on Nov 15, 2011

This is a song that I wrote in 2007. As a kid, I was introduced to the music of Elvis by my dad and uncle Bobby Gene. I'm still a fan today. Back in 2001, one of my dear friends (Clayton) was living in Tupelo and attending a small church just across the road from the small home that Elvis was raised in (pictured near the beginning of this video). It was a special treat to visit that place on several occasions.

There will never be another one like Mr. Presley- he lit the fuse. I'm nearing 32, and when I think of what this man accomplished by just 42 (and that he only lived to be 42) I'm amazed. I'm also sad that such a person was taken from us too young.
There have been a lot of songs written about Elvis- so many in fact that I didn't finish this one for a long time. In any case, this is mine. This version is an extended one for the slide show's sake. There is a shorter version here: http://tindeck.com/listen/nmut

acoustic version:

*music an lyrics copyright 2007 Jason Spraggins

In a two room house
Deep down in the south
In sleepy Tupelo,
He was raised on the Gospel
With his mama's love
And the songs of old Hank Snow.

He was born without a penny
or a chance in hell.
Could he have ever known-
What he would find-
How he would shine
When he left from Tupelo?

When he was fourteen-
Just startin' to dream,
He set out on a road.
He found himself in Memphis
With rhythm and blues
Near the dawn of rock-n-roll.

On the banks of the river,
'neath the lights of Beale,
Was there any way to know-
When country, blues and gospel fused
That he would find his soul?

Through forty-two years that boy became a man.
From the city on the Mississippi he made his stand.
Rooted in the Gospel but soaked in blues-
Even a king had to pay his dues.
Through forty-two years he learned to face his fears
On a road filled with love, fortune, fame and tears.
He was running from the Devil while singing the songs-
But a shooting star doesn't last too long.
In that city on the Mississippi when fate drew near,
It couldn't steal the dreams of forty-two short years.

In a brand new home
Of grace and of stone
Built on rock-and-roll,
He stamped our lives and music,
And he took the world-
Still the fame would take its toll.

At once he was the champion-
conquering the Sun.
But can we ever know-
Did he reminisce and did he miss
The soft shade of Tupelo?


Just twenty-one years a pauper-
Just twenty-one years a star-
Just forty-two years among us-
Still a part of who we are.

(Partial Chorus)

-spraggins 11/07

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