Billy Elvis is the man who he adores A figure of him tattooed upon his chest He picks up the old battered guitar With a shake, rattle & roll he cannot step outside his door He has to make do with a jailhouse rock inside his ten storey block A plastic bangle on his ankle, for which he had punched his uncle He smiles in the mirror, gaps appear, Teardrop tattoo on his cheek, homemade and faded, Adopting his Elvis pose he winks back at his reflection He's waiting for his happy ever after Regrets left in vain, he fights to release his pain The post traumatic GI blues shake him up once again This time he changing, taking up flower arranging a new chapter is calling This time he's clean and on the straight and narrow, says he's bored of all the hassle He keeps his mind and hands busy, this now his therapy creating works of art and developing his craft helps forget his past Foliage and petals instead of his usual hard metal, softens his heart and heals the broken parts.