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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 sitting 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 out there live just like shadows
Always quiet, holding hands
From the churches to the jails
Tonight all is silence in the world
As we take our stand
Down in Jungleland
Well the midnight gang's assembled
And picked a rendezvous 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 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
Hustling 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 dancing
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 running 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 when the ambulence pulls away
Or as the girl shuts out the bedroom light
Outside the street's on fire
In a real death waltz
Bewtween what's flesh and what's fantasy
And the poets down here
Don't write nothing 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
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
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 out there live just like shadows
Always quiet, holding hands
From the churches to the jails
Tonight all is silence in the world
As we take our stand
Down in Jungleland
Well the midnight gang's assembled
And picked a rendezvous 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 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
Hustling 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 dancing
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 running 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 when the ambulence pulls away
Or as the girl shuts out the bedroom light
Outside the street's on fire
In a real death waltz
Bewtween what's flesh and what's fantasy
And the poets down here
Don't write nothing 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
Lyrics submitted by fearofmusic
Track duration: 09:35
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You will need to think of the symbolism the song creates with its lyrics. The song was published in 1975. So let me set the back drop of what was happening during this era, I think you will find it helps to clarify the life's struggles of youth Bruce id attempting define with the song. What was happening prior to that time, let's see: We were coming off of the most severe economic contraction since the great depression, this thing that we experienced in 2008-9 is very similar, but without as much misery. Misery in society can be measured by the adding the unemployment rate with the inflation rate. Unemployment during this period went from 4.5% to 8.7% while inflation rose from 7% to 12.25%, and economic activity declined for 2 straight years falling over 4%. As many of you may be experiencing at this time, unemployment among youth was much higher. Many of us started companies of our own, just to work.
We had just ended the Vietnam War; the first war this great nation never won. We were experiencing our first oil embargo from OPEC, because we had become dependent on other nations for our energy. So our gas guzzling "Muscle Cars" were halted by Detroit and we were given the Mustang II - LOL. The low period of the 70"s!!!
We were struggling to survive, our "Ozzie and Harriet" (see 60"s TV) families were non-existent; our lives were torn apart by war, recession, drug and alcohol addiction. Jungleland symbolizes the struggles we endured to make our way in life. All the trial and tribulations we had in growing up whether it is flashing guitars like switchblades struggling for the record machine, or starting my own business because there were no jobs, it all symbolizes the struggles of growing up in the 70's.
One thing I can tell the youth of today is to just persevere, life does get better.
I'm an English major, I've read Tennessee Williams, and Faulkner, and Shakespear. I've read the poetry of Wordsworth, Dyland Thomas and Samuel Taylor Colleridge. And this work can stand with them.
This song, IMHO.. is a statement of the struggle for young people living the streets to find some moments of joy. Close enough to spit at the affluent beachtowns of Long Island and Manhattan, the Magic Rat and the Barefoot girl find themselves in a whole different world.. and still there are moments of happiness for them.
But that happiness is fleeting, and, by the end, the Rat is gone, and...
" No one watches when the ambulance pulls away
Or as the girl shuts out the bedroom light".
This is the essence of Springsteen at his best, evident in his early Albums right up until Born in the U.S.A., where he sort of lost his way, I think.
It's the struggle that neither Ronald Regan, nor Barack Obama understand.. it's a world where no one asks for a handout, where no one expects there to be a silver lining, where hope is fleeting.. but where you struggle on, with pride and occasional moments of joy, drinking a warm beer in the soft summer rain.. or, in another song, just racing in the street..
There is no grand message. No "moral" to the story. Only a glimpse into the lives of so many young people who grow up in worlds far removed from most of us.. and who find something like love, for a moment, as they disappear down flamingo lane.
But.
At the end.
They're left wounded. Not even dead.
(I just had a shiver. I've heard the song a thousand times, and it still moves me.)
It's a song about leaving the Jersey Car Culture/scene behind and growing up. There's a reason it's the last song on the album celebrating that scene, closing the opera on the highway.
Thunder Road/TAFO/Night/Backstreets/Born to Run/She's the One/Meeting Across the River/Jungleland. It's structured to tell a story it seems and it's apparently very sad.
With reference to 'tramps like us' and 'pjjinxer' above; if 'the maximum law man' is the record business and the 'poets' are the artists of the time with their stifled creativity, the song makes complete sense to me at last. The boy-girl innocence/romance/tragedy is too simple.
Now I have to sort out 'Lost in the Flood'.
I have loved this song for 30 years, and with Clarence's passing yesterday, I've been listening to this song a lot the past day. Really, if this song doesn't take you through two tissues, get a heart transplant:)
RIP, BIg Man...
I've just read about Clarence and I've been looking at different recording of Jungleland on YouTube. - I used to try to play the sax-
This is a sad day, but his music will live on . . .