BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN - Jungeland lyrics

rate me

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 Lawmen run down Flamingo

Chasing Rat and the barefoot girl

And the kids round therelive 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 vanish unseen

Kid's flash guitars just like switch-blades

Hustling for the record machine

The hungry and the hunted

Explode into rock'n'roll bands

They 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 dincing

To the records that th DJ plays

Lonely -hearted lovers

Struggle in dark corners

Desperate as the night moves on

Just one 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 what's 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 a knife

They reach for their moment

And try to make an honest stand

But they wind up wounded

Not even dead

Tonight in Jungleland