Well the Rangers had a home-coming in Harlem late last night
And the Magic Rat piloted his sleek machine across the Jersey State Line
Barefoot girl sits drinking warm beer on the hood of an old Dodge
In the soft summer rain
Rat rolls up his pants, together they'd make a stab at romance
And move down Flamingo Lane
Well now the maximum lawmen they run down the Flamingo chasing the Rat
And the barefoot girl
But the kids they live like shadows in empty doorways
(But they live like shadows in the vacant doorways)
Always silent, holding hands
The Rat pulls her close (The Rat pulls Mary close)
And from the churches to the jails there is silence in the world
(all is silent in the world)
For tonight they'd take their chance
Down here in Jungleland
Well ther's a crazy kind of light tonight
Brighter than the one that sparkles for prophets
Brighter than the Giant Exxon sign that brings this fair city light
There's an opera out on the Turnpike, there's a ballet being fought outside
the
alley
Well 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
Then the hungry and the haunted explode into rock 'n' roll bands
They face off against each other when they meet
Down here in Jungleland
The streets's on fire in a classic death waltz
Between the masters of flesh and fantasy
The poets down here don't write nothin' at all, they just stand and and let
it all be
And in the quick of the night they reach for their moment to make an honest
stand
But they wind up wounded, not rightly dead, down here in Jungleland - yes
they do
Oh be
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Bing Crosby lyrics
