9 January 2010
Man känner sig nog rätt dum när man råkar snudda en sån här och sen trillar ner död ett par minuter senare.
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
Well the Maximum Lawman run down Flamingo chasing the Rat and the barefoot girlAnd the kids round here look just like shadows always quiet, holding handsFrom the churches to the jails tonight all is s
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
In the parking lot the visionaries dress in the latest rage Inside the backstreet girls are dancing to the records that the D.J. plays Lonely-hearted lovers struggle in dark corners Desperate as the n
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 do
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 nothing at all, they just stand back and let it all be And in the quick of the n
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