By Curt Smith and Charlton Pettus

Black velvet Elvis is dead
Looks down his crown on the bed
As he's lead to the edge of town
September pardon the son
The hardest part is the one
That you hold in your hands dear
This is the perfect day to blow myself away
This is the perfect time
This is the perfect way and everyone will say
Hey it's a perfect day
Sunday Kings out for a drive
I'm taking leaves from the fire
As the gold in his eyes screams
Forecast is look out below
Slow dances crashes and
God only knows where He goes to
This is the perfect day……….
Hey it's a perfect day

**********

The story:

I wake up calmly, without anxiety. I feel at peace. Today has finally arrived, and as I look at myself in the mirror I know with absolute certainty that I was born for this. I was chosen. I was blessed. As I do every morning, I remember to thank God for that.



I’m in a hotel room, predominantly beige and blue. I can’t help but feel that they are designed to make the occupant seek comfort elsewhere. The place has no soul, much like the city that surrounds it. It has the desired effect as I dress to leave for breakfast. I have the uniform - white button-down shirt starched to its sharp cuff that on one side comes to rest slightly over the gold watch, perfectly pressed pants that break just the right amount before nestling comfortably on top of the polished Gucci shoes. In this country I am power.

I take the elevator to the top floor restaurant. It’s 7.30am, start of the business day for those with no home. Other uniforms join me as we inch our way to the top. They look at me and I swear some of them bow, they’re aware that my demeanor and dress say that I’m in command.

As I sit at my table I can’t help but notice that all those around me, from the tired impatient diners to the overworked and under-appreciated staff, look burdened. I, on the other hand, am at ease. My weight is carried by a higher power. 



I return to my quarters to pack for the journey. My luggage is more expensive than it first appears. From its solid telescopic handle to its well-machined wheels and understated branding, it’s a powerful piece of artillery.

Downstairs the doorman politely opens the door and ushers me into the waiting livery car that will take me on the first part of the journey to my destination. The driver attempts to make small talk but my silence informs him that I am not concerned with small matters, his duty is to take me from point A to point B efficiently and nothing more.



Upon arrival at point B I forego the automated check-in machine and head for the red carpet and personal service that my rank demands. From there I take the slow walk through security, where thankfully technology cannot detect what I have, and on to the lounge to wait patiently with other corporate officers. I have an hour before the final leg of my journey begins and I spend the time in quiet observation.

The faceless speakers announce our imminent departure and I join the flow of bodies exiting to their next comfortable resting place. Upon boarding I am shown to my seat by a uniformed lady with a false smile, a smile that befits the surrounding dyed hair and the country she represents. I decline her offer of refreshment. I am already refreshed.



I’m in the part of the vehicle where nobody speaks, we are too busy thinking and planning for words, words can divulge weaknesses, one luxury we cannot afford.

An hour later and we are cruising over their wonderland, headphones are on and screens are up, broadcasting their subtle propaganda. I look down at the minute piece of technology I hold in my hand, technology they created, and say a final prayer.



Forgive them.

The story behind the story:

This particular song started off as one idea and slowly morphed (due to current events) into another. 



The initial premise was a song about middle-aged suburbia and the difficult transition from what were our dreams to our stark reality. The transition from our carefree years to parenthood, Selfishness to selflessness. A self-pitying look at what we’ve become. Self – self – self. I think you get the picture. Ending with the ultimate selfish act. In this case using the backdrop of American suburbia and its icons.

However, during the writing and recording process we experienced September 11th. The emotion changed somewhat.



The black velvet Elvis is a piece of Americana you will find in many a yard sale, it’s (you guessed it) an Elvis picture made of black velvet. Here Elvis is used not just as an example of Americana, but because he is referred to as “The King”. Black velvet also refers to the “black cap” that a judge in England would place on his head before pronouncing a death sentence (which was always by hanging), or a hangman’s hood. The simple translation of the line is “the King is dead”. But before you reply “long live the King” there’s more.



“Looks down his crown on the bed”. This is symbolic of him no longer being King and it also relates to the “Halfway Pleased” crown – a new King is born. He is then lead to the edge of town. This could just mean being run out of town but here it refers to him being lead to the hangman’s tree. I feel hanging is a particularly strong symbol here as it’s so ingrained in American history.



September was initially chosen because, in America, it is the start of autumn (or fall), a transitional season between summer and winter, a representation of mid-life. It obviously took on a different meaning as events unfolded. “Pardon the son” is a request for forgiveness and can be viewed in two ways – one, I am not entirely responsible for my actions as I am just a product of my upbringing – two, a call to a father for forgiveness, i.e.- when I was just a son I didn’t understand, now that I am a father I do. It also has the obvious religious overtones, the son of God, Jesus being the messenger and “don’t shoot the messenger”. OK, it can be viewed in more than two ways.



The next line is probably the most important and most amusing (to me at least). “The hardest part is the one that you hold in your hands dear”. It could be a weapon, religious text or male genitalia, all equally as dangerous in the wrong hands, things to hold dear.



The important part of the chorus is really the juxtaposition of the melodies and lyrics. It’s talking about suicide but couldn’t be melodically happier. It’s meant to portray calmness or joy in the act itself. There is no desperation - just contented resignation. It’s the correct decision. The lyrics can be translated literally but “blow myself away” also alludes to the surprise and admiration at the showing of strength – “it blew me away”.



For me “Sunday Kings out for a drive” conjures up scenes from the movie “Grease” – a leather clad gang of men out cruising in their open top Cadillacs, the scenes where they are “real men”, but there were other considerations. The men turn into lawnmower riding weekend gardeners or driving the other “caddy” – the golf one – whilst out for a drive on the range, which in itself could be translated into an old western. The use of Sunday also has religious connotations (a recurrent theme it would appear).



“I’m taking leaves from the fire” is used to portray someone trying to save pages (leaves) from a book that has been thrown into a fire, trying to reverse a book burning. It could be religious or personal writings, something that is unacceptable to someone else. It also has the image of trying to destroy the autumnal suburban pastime that is leaf burning, thus destroying the neighborhood.



“As the gold in his eyes screams” – the most valued religious symbols are usually gold and this line is a description of religious fanaticism or madness. It also refers of course to money – “the root of all evil”. 



The next three lines are the description of the actual suicide. “Forecast is lookout below” is a vision of a man on the edge, or should I say ledge, and ready to jump. It also portrays the image of a plane crashing and hell (back to religion) – “watch out hell, I’m coming”.
The slow dance is the man (or object) in the act of falling, the final moments moving in slow motion. Crashes – the impact, the stock market, to fall asleep and something breaking down.



The last line thank God (forgive the pun) is relatively self-explanatory – no one knows if he was right or wrong or where he will end up. 

“God only knows where he goes to”


* To could also be spelled too – but more on the alternative spellings of that word will undoubtedly come later.