The Greatest Oldies Music

Oldies Musics

Elvis Presley – ‘Young Dreams’

Introduction

Elvis Presley’s musical legacy encompasses a myriad of emotions, and “Young Dreams” stands as a poignant testament to the King’s ability to capture the essence of youth and aspiration. Released in 1958 as part of the “King Creole” soundtrack, this ballad weaves a story of dreams, love, and the innocence of youth. Join us as we explore the heartfelt narrative behind “Young Dreams” and delve into the emotional resonance of this timeless Elvis Presley classic.

Did You Know?

“Young Dreams” showcases Elvis’s versatility as he effortlessly transitions from upbeat rock tunes to tender ballads. As a pivotal track in the “King Creole” soundtrack, the song captures the yearning and idealism of youth, reflecting Presley’s ability to connect with audiences on a deep emotional level. The tender melody and heartfelt lyrics make “Young Dreams” a standout in Presley’s extensive discography.

Video

 

Lyrics: Young Dreams 

(Young dreams of love, young dreams of love)
Young dreams (Young dreams, young dreams)
My heart is filled with young dreams (dreams)
And I’m longing to
Share them all with youIn my eyes, (my eyes, my eyes)
Oh can’t you see in my eyes (in eyes)
That you’re the only one who
Can make my young dreams come trueI have young arms
That wanna hold you (hold you)
Hold you oh so tight
I have young lips (lips)
That want to kiss you (kiss you)
Kiss you morning noon and night
Take my hand (my hand my hand)
Oh darling take my hand (take hand)
And let me make you a part
Of all my young dreams of love

I have young arms
That wanna hold you (hold you)
Hold you oh so tight
I have young lips (lips)
That want to kiss you (kiss you)
Kiss you morning noon and night
Take my hand (my hand my hand)
Oh darling take my hand (take hand)
And let me make you a part
Of all my young dreams of love
A part of all of my young dreams of love
(Young dreams of love, young dreams of love)

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STONEWALL JACKSON ASKED TOM T. HALL TO WRITE A PRISON SONG, BUT HALL COULD NOT DO IT BECAUSE HE HAD NEVER ACTUALLY BEEN TO PRISON. Tom T. Hall spent his early career turning out the kind of polished, commercial hits that Nashville publishers lived for. He could write what people expected, but he always felt like a fraud. When Stonewall Jackson approached him requesting a prison song—hoping to capture that rugged, authentic aura Johnny Cash was building—Hall hit a wall. He stared at his notepad, realized he had no genuine experience with a cell, and flatly refused to fake it. He was a songwriter, not an actor, and his pride kept him from writing about a world he didn’t know. His wife, Dixie, cut through the tension with a simple reminder: he had indeed spent a week in a county jail in Kentucky after a traffic violation. That memory was not cinematic or heroic. It was just mundane, quiet, and uncomfortable. It involved bad food, the sound of iron bars, and the slow, agonizing crawl of days where the jailer’s wife suddenly started looking like the most beautiful woman on earth. He stopped writing songs that invented generic situations and started reporting the people and places he actually encountered. The result was his first number one hit, written like a man telling a story across a kitchen table. Stonewall Jackson never got his song, but Hall finally found his own voice in the silence of that jail cell.

Elvis Presley did not go to Hollywood simply because he wanted to be a movie star. He wanted to act. He admired performers such as James Dean and Marlon Brando and hoped that, given the right material, audiences might eventually see him as more than the singer whose voice and movements had turned popular culture upside down.

Long before the private planes, expensive cars and Graceland, Elvis Presley knew what it meant to live with very little. His childhood in Tupelo stayed with him even after fame transformed his life. Money changed what Elvis could afford, but it never completely erased the memory of struggling.

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