Bruce Springsteen - Open All Night lyrics
[Bruce Springsteen - Open All Night lyrics]
I had the carburetor cleaned and checked
With her line blown out
She's 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 points
I'm goin' out tonight
I'm gonna rock that joint
Early north Jersey industrial skyline
I'm a all-set cobra jet
Creepin' through the nighttime
Gotta find a gas station
Gotta find a payphone
This turnpike sure is spooky at
Night when you're all alone
Gotta hit the gas, baby, I'm runnin' late
This New Jersey in the mornin'
Like a lunar landscape
The boss don't dig me
So he put me on the nightshift
It takes me two hours to get
Back to where my baby lives
In the wee wee hours, your mind gets hazy
Radio relay towers
Won't you lead me to my baby?
Underneath the overpass
Trooper hit's his party light switch
Goodnight, good luck, one two powershift
I met Wanda when she was employed
Behind the counter at the Route
60 Bob's Big Boy
Fried chicken on the front seat
She's sittin' in my lap
We're wipin' our fingers on a Texaco roadmap
I remember Wanda up on scrap metal hill
With them big brown eyes that
Make your heart stand still
5 AM, oil pressure's 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 daddy's comin' on home
Sit tight, little mama, I'm comin' round
I got three more hours
But I'm coverin' ground
Your eyes get itchy in the wee wee hours
Sun's just a red ball risin'
Over them refinery towers
Radio's jammed up with gospel stations
Lost souls callin' long distance salvation
Hey Mr dJ, won't you hear my last prayer?
Hey ho rock 'n' roll, deliver me from nowhere
With her line blown out
She's 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 points
I'm goin' out tonight
I'm gonna rock that joint
Early north Jersey industrial skyline
I'm a all-set cobra jet
Creepin' through the nighttime
Gotta find a gas station
Gotta find a payphone
This turnpike sure is spooky at
Night when you're all alone
Gotta hit the gas, baby, I'm runnin' late
This New Jersey in the mornin'
Like a lunar landscape
The boss don't dig me
So he put me on the nightshift
It takes me two hours to get
Back to where my baby lives
In the wee wee hours, your mind gets hazy
Radio relay towers
Won't you lead me to my baby?
Underneath the overpass
Trooper hit's his party light switch
Goodnight, good luck, one two powershift
I met Wanda when she was employed
Behind the counter at the Route
60 Bob's Big Boy
Fried chicken on the front seat
She's sittin' in my lap
We're wipin' our fingers on a Texaco roadmap
I remember Wanda up on scrap metal hill
With them big brown eyes that
Make your heart stand still
5 AM, oil pressure's 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 daddy's comin' on home
Sit tight, little mama, I'm comin' round
I got three more hours
But I'm coverin' ground
Your eyes get itchy in the wee wee hours
Sun's just a red ball risin'
Over them refinery towers
Radio's jammed up with gospel stations
Lost souls callin' long distance salvation
Hey Mr dJ, won't you hear my last prayer?
Hey ho rock 'n' roll, deliver me from nowhere