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Open All Night
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Bruce Springsteen
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Well, I had the carburetor, baby, cleaned and checked With her line blown out shes hummin like a turbojet Propped her up in the backyard on concrete blocks For a new clutch plate and a new set of shocks Took her down to the carwash, check the plugs and point Well, Im goin out tonight. Im gonna rock that joint
Early north jersey industrial skyline Im a all-set cobra jet creepin through the nighttime Gotta find a gas station, gotta find a pay phone This turnpike sure is spooky at night when youre all alone Gotta hit the gas, baby. Im running late This new jersey in the mornin like a lunar landscape
Now, the boss dont dig me, so he put me on the night shift Its an all-night run to get back to where my baby lives In the wee, wee hours your mind gets hazy Radio relays towers, wont you lead me to my baby? Underneath the overpass, trooper hits his party light switch Good night, good luck. one, two power shift
I met wanda when she was employed Behind the counter at route sixty bobs big boy fried chicken On the front seat, shes sittin in my lap Were wipin our fingers on a texaco road map I remember wanda up on scrap metal hill With them big brown eyes that make your heart stand still
Well, at five a.m., oil pressures sinkin fast I make a pit stop, wipe the windshield, check the gas Gotta call my baby on the telephone Let her know that her daddys comin on home Sit tight, little mama, Im comin `round I got three more hours, but Im coverin ground
Your eyes get itchy in the wee, wee hours Suns just a red ball risin over them refinery towers Radios jammed up with gospel stations Lost souls callin long distance salvation Hey, mister deejay, wontcha hear my last prayer? Hey, ho, rocknroll, deliver me from nowhere
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