Money Honey (Elvis)

Lyrics

Yeah.
Nashville. January tenth. Nineteen fifty-six.
Room's hot. Smells like coffee and ambition.
Let's go.

Three years before, it was another city.
New York. Atlantic Records. Humid August air.
Clyde McPhatter's voice, smooth as silk, laying it down.
A plea. A need.
"If you wanna get along with me..."
The Drifters, man. They knew the score.
Wrote it right there on the wax.

Money, honey.
Money, honey.
The landlord's at the door, the beat is on the floor.
It ain't about the romance, it's about the resource.
You ain't got no money, honey...
Well, you ain't got no me.

Then the kid from Tupelo walks in.
Takes that smooth city plea and lights a fire under it.
Scotty Moore on the guitar, Bill Black slappin' that bass back.
D.J. Fontana holdin' it all down.
They sped it up.
Put some country in it.
Turned the want into a demand.
A sneer and a hip-shake.

Money, honey!
Money, honey!
The landlord's at the door, the beat is on the floor.
It ain't about the romance, it's about the resource.
You ain't got no money, honey...
Well, you ain't got no me!

Leiber and Stoller, those clever boys.
They heard it. The blues feeling.
Needing both.
The cash and the kiss.
The pun that pays the rent.
The most honest love song ever written.
A dance track about being broke and wanting everything anyway.
Yeah, they knew.

From a New York studio to a Nashville session.
From a 45 on a jukebox to the King's first record.
The same damn truth.
Money.
Honey.
Yeah.