You know she still had her shades.

And she said.

"Honey, nothing to it. 'Cause you see? Presley is what I go by. And why don't you change the stations? Let's count the green elevators as they go by the rearview mirror. 'Cause anyway you pointed this thing it's got to beat the hell out of the sting, 'cause every night I go to bed and I lie down next to all my dreams. But they die here every morning.
So come on, Presley! Drill me a hole, with a barber pole, 'cause I'm jumping my parole just like a fugitive tonight. And let's have another swig at that black velvet. Let's pass that car, man, you brave enough? 'Cause we're getting there just before the sun comes up out in Burma Shave.

Just you and me, baby. 'Cause this town is driving me crazy, it's driving me crazy! I'm going crazy, baby."

And the sun hit the derrick and cast a bat wing shadow up against the car door on the shot gun side. And baby, when they pulled you from the wreck you still had on your shades.

Your shades, baby, and a red-stained Camel in your lips.