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    Bruce Springsteen / Lyrics

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    "Jungleland" Lyrics

    Bruce Springsteen

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    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 sittin' 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 the Rat and the Barefoot Girl
    And the kids round here look just like shadows
    Always quiet, holdin' 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 me 'neath that giant Exxon sigh
    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
    Kids flash guitars just like switch-blades
    Hustlin' 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 dancin'
    To the records that the 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 runnin' 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 as the ambulance pulls away
    Or as the girl shuts out the bedroom light

    Outside the street's on fire
    In a real death watlz
    Between what's flesh and what's fantasy
    And the poets down here
    Don't write nothin' 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
    And not even dead
    Tonight in Jungleland
    This song was last modified on October 18th, 2016.
    Copyright with Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group, Downtown Music Publishing.
    Written by Bruce Springsteen.
    Lyrics licensed by LyricFind.

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