My Betty Lou rushed to the stage
To touch her hero, despite her age
She screamed out: "Elvis, Elvis - take it off!"
But all he gave her was his sweaty scarf

When we got back home, her eyes were bright
She locked the door and turned out the lights
And then she reached for her cherished prize
Held it to her nose and closed her eyes

She said: "It still smells like Elvis
I can still tell.
It still smells like Elvis
It's the king of smells."

That scarf was sweaty, heaven knows
But to Betty Lou it smelled like a rose
I'm not complaining - I'm not that sort
Yeah but I'm just glad she didn't get his shorts

Well I've kissed her everywhere, kissed everything
But everywhere I kiss her, I smell the King
She holds it tight, tight between her thighs
It's been there so long I'm real surprised

That it still smells like Elvis
I can still tell
It still smells like Elvis
It's the king of smells

One day I thought her poor heart would break
When I did a laundry and by mistake
I washed her scarf, along with all my clothes
But when she held it, up to her nose
she said
"It still smells like Elvis
I can still tell
It still smells like Elvis
It's the king of smells!"