" JungleLand "
"....And the poets down here
Don't write nothin' at all
They just stand back and let it all be...."
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
Drinkin' 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
Chasin' the Rat and the barefoot girl
And the kids round here just look 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 rendevous 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 bein' 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
Hustilin' for the record machine
The Hungry and the Hunted
Explode into rock an roll bands
That face off against each other
In the street
Down in JungleLand
In the parking lot the visionaries
Dress in the latest rage
Inside the backstreets girls are dancin'
To the records that the DJ plays
Lonely heart 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 runnin' through the 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 waltz
Between 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 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
