The drugs mixed up his birdy brain,
Till precious little sense remained.
He used to be The King, no less,
But now he's just a flabby mess!

He peered into his looking glass,
And saw his horrid lardy ass...
'I'm such a hot-dang flubber-guts,
I gotta quit these god-damn nuts!'
'Lord have mercy' Elvis says,
'I must vacation right aways!'
But Donald said, 'Now Elvis, son,
I don't mean to spoil your fun,
But you can't take no holiday,
There's shows to do and tax to pay.
So listen here, you feathered wonder,
Don't make a catastrophic blunder.
If you're feeling old and sick,
Get on down to Doctor Nick.
The greatest druggist in our nation,
He'll prescribe your medication.'

Dr Nick took one quick look,
And brought out his prescription book,
And said, 'Now sonny, here's some pills,
They help to ease your many ills.
They all do different thing, it's true,
But that is what is best for you.
So every time you're feeling crappy,
These Dexedrine will make you happy,
And every time you need to rest,
These Percodan will work the best,
And every time you need to wake,
These big 'Black Beauties' you should take!
I'll give you plenty… Here's a ton,
Right, that's it, my work is done...
Now sign this picture for my son!'

At least it seemed he'd turned a page
The Elvis bird went back on stage,
Fat and drugged, but what the heck,
Donald still cashed up the cheques.
And for a while, though not for long,
The Elvis bird was back on song.
Concerts beamed by satellite,
In diamond crusted suits of white.

Continued: Part 3