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Reply to "Jungleland wasn‘t built in a day"

Jungleland 1974-12-06 

Geneva 10:13

 

suki violin intro
bells 0:50

the Rangers had a home coming in Harlem late last night
And the Magic Rat drove his beautiful machine over the Jersey State Line
Barefoot girl sits drinking warm beer on the hood of an old Dodge in the soft summer rain
the Rat pulls into town, rolls up his pants, together they take a stab at romance and disapear down Flamingo Lane

now the maximum lawmen they run down Flamingo chasing the Rat And the barefoot girl
the kids down there live just like shadows always silent, holding hands
from the churches to the jails tonight tonight there is silence in the world
as we take our stand down in Jungleland

Well there’s a crazy kind of light tonight
Brighter than the one that sparkles for prophets
Brighter than that Giant Exxon sign that brings this fair city light
There’s an opera out on the Turnpike, there’s a ballet being fought out in the alley
the cops they let their faces show and rips this holy night
The streets alive with tough-kid Jets in Nova-light machines
Boys flash guitars like bayonets and rip holes in their jeans
the hungry and the hunted explode into rock ‘n’ roll bands
and face off against each other in the street
Down in Jungleland

322 sax solo

353
In the parking lot the visionaries dress in the latest rage
As the Spanish Angels dance soft and low in a blacked arcade
But the lights are so dim as he crosses the room, the band moves into the song
He looks in her eyes, takes her hand and they’re gone, gone

415 long guitar solo with violin and sax

727
Beneath the city two hearts beat, soul engines warm and tender
In a bedroom locked in silent whispers of soft refusal and then surrender
In the tunnel of machines the Rat chases his dreams
On that forever lasting night, until the barefoot girl crawls into bed, shakes her head
And with a kiss and a sigh she shuts out the light

Outside the street’s on fire in a real death waltz Between what's flesh and 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 make an honest stand
But they wind up wounded, and not even dead, tonight in Jungleland

 

people would jump onstage and grab me by the head and scream, ‘tilly! bootlegs!'"

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