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