Open All Night - Bruce Springsteen
    Well, I had the carburetor, baby, 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
    Well, 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 running late, this New Jersey in the mornin' like a lunar landscape

    Now, the boss don't dig me, so he put me on the nightshift
    It's an all night run 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 hits his party light switch
    Goodnight good luck one two power shift

    I met Wanda when she was employed behind the counter at 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

    Well, at five a.m., 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, mister deejay, woncha hear my last prayer hey, ho, rock'n'roll, deliver me from nowhere


    Marco Giunco
    Work Basket Music Words