Jungleland

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 ambulance pulls away

Or as the girl shuts out the bedroom light

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 a knife they reach for their moment

And try to make an honest stand

But they wind up wounded, not even dead

Tonight in Jungleland...

~ Bruce Springsteen ~

"Death is not the only way to lose someone you love."

~ Author Unknown ~