|
[ti:The Jungle Line] |
| [00:12.99] |
Rousseau walks on trumpet paths |
| [00:18.95] |
Safaris to the heart of all that jazz |
| [00:27.18] |
Through I bars and girders-through wires and pipes |
| [00:32.85] |
The mathematic circuits of the modern nights |
| [00:41.80] |
Through huts, through Harlem, through jails and gospel pews |
| [00:47.69] |
Through the class on Park and the trash on Vine |
| [00:52.78] |
Through Europe and the deep deep heart of Dixie blue |
| [00:58.70] |
Through savage progress cuts the jungle line |
| [01:13.87] |
In a low-cut blouse she brings the beer |
| [01:19.02] |
Rousseau paints a jungle flower behind her ear |
| [01:28.27] |
Those cannibals-of shuck and jive |
| [01:33.69] |
They'll eat a working girl like her alive |
| [01:42.75] |
With his hard-edged eye and his steady hand |
| [01:48.42] |
He paints the cellar full of ferns and orchid vines |
| [01:53.60] |
And he hangs a moon above a five-piece band |
| [01:59.99] |
He hangs it up above the jungle line |
| [02:14.38] |
The jungle line, the jungle line |
| [02:20.87] |
Screaming in a ritual of sound and time |
| [02:29.08] |
Floating, drifting on the air-conditioned wind |
| [02:34.75] |
And drooling for a taste of something smuggled in |
| [02:43.75] |
Pretty women funneled through valves and smoke |
| [02:49.46] |
Coy and bitchy, wild and fine |
| [02:54.86] |
And charging elephants and chanting slaving boats |
| [03:00.77] |
Charging, chanting down the jungle line |
| [03:15.48] |
There's a poppy wreath on a soldier's tomb |
| [03:21.19] |
There's a poppy snake in a dressing room |
| [03:30.45] |
Poppy poison-poppy tourniquet |
| [03:35.83] |
It slithers away on brass like mouthpiece spit |
| [03:44.58] |
And metal skin and ivory birds |
| [03:50.27] |
Go steaming up to Rousseau's vines |
| [03:55.70] |
They go steaming up to Brooklyn Bridge |
| [04:01.12] |
Steaming, steaming, steaming up the jungle line |
