Tác giả : Bruce Springsteen
Người đăng : administrator, 14 năm trước
The rangers had a homecoming in harlem late last night 
And the magic rat drove his sleek machine over the jersey state line 
Barefoot girl sitting on the hood of a dodge 
Drinking warm beer in the soft summer rain 
The rat pulls into town rolls up his pants 
Together they take a stab at romance and disappear down flamingo lane 
 
Well the maximum lawman run down flamingo chasing the rat and the barefoot 
Girl 
And the kids round here look just like shadows always quiet, holding hands 
From the churches to the jails tonight all is silence in the world 
As we take our stand down in jungleland 
 
The midnight gang's assembled and picked a rendezvous for the night 
They'll meet `neath that giant exxon sign that brings this fair city light 
Man there's an opera out on the turnpike 
There's a ballet being fought out in the alley 
Until the local cops, cherry tops, rips this holy night 
The street's alive as secret debts are paid 
Contacts made, they vanished unseen 
Kids flash guitars just like switch-blades hustling for the record machine 
The hungry and the hunted explode into rock'n'roll bands 
That face off against each other out in the street down in jungleland 
 
In the parking lot the visionaries dress in the latest rage 
Inside the backstreet girls are dancing to the records that the d.j. plays 
Lonely-hearted lovers struggle in dark corners 
Desperate as the night moves on, just a look and a whisper, and they're gone 
 
Beneath the city two hearts beat 
Soul engines running through a night so tender in a bedroom locked 
In whispers of soft refusal and then surrender in the tunnels uptown 
The rat's own dream guns him down as shots echo down them hallways in the 
Night 
No one watches when the ambulance pulls away 
Or as the girl shuts out the bedroom light 
 
Outside the street's on fire in a real death waltz 
Between flesh and what's fantasy and the poets down here 
Don't write nothing at all, they just stand back and let it all be 
And in the quick of the night they reach for their moment 
And try to make an honest stand but they wind up wounded, not even dead 
Tonight in jungleland