April 9, 2009

  • Screendoor slams...Mary's dress sways
    Like a vision she dances across the porch as the radio plays
    Roy Orbenson singing for the lonely...
    Hey, that's me, girl, and I want you only
    Don't turn me home again
    I just can't face myself alone again...

    Well, don't you run back inside, darling
    You know just what I'm here for
    So you're scared and you're thinking that
    Maybe we're not that young anymore
    Show a little faith - there's magic in the night
    You ain't a beauty, but hey - you're alright

    Oh, and that's alright with me

    You can hide 'neath your covers and study your pain
    Make crosses from your lovers, throw roses in the rain
    Waste your summer praying in vain
    For a savior to rise from these streets

    Well, I ain't no hero - that's understood
    All the redemption I can offer's beneath this dirty hood
    With a chance to make it good somehow -
    Baby, what else can we do now?
    Except roll down the window and let the wind blow back your hair
    Well, the night's busted open - these two lanes will take us any-where

    We got one last chance to make it real
    To trade in these wings-on-some-wheels
    Climb in back
    Heaven's waiting down on the track

    So, oh, oh, come take my hand
    We're riding out tonight to chase the promised land

    Ohhh, oh, oh, oh Thunder Road!
    Oh, Thunder Road, Thunder Road...

    Lying out there like a killer in the sun!
    Girl, I know it's late, but we can make it if we run

    Oh, oh, oh, oh Thunder Road
    Sit tight!
    Take hold!
    Thunder Road!

    Well, I got this guitar, and I learned how to make it talk
    Yeah, my car's out back if you're ready to take
    That long walk

    From your front porch to my front seat -
    The door's open but, the ride, it ain't free

    Now I know you're lonely for words that I ain't spoken -
    But tonight we'll be free,
    All the promises will be broken

    Yeah, there were ghosts in the eyes of all them boys you sent away
    They hunt this dusty beach road
    Of skeloton dreams of burned out Chevolets...

    They scream your name at night in the street
    Your graduation gown lies in rags at their feet...

    In the lonely cool before dawn...you hear their engines roaring on...

    But when you get to the porch, they're gone on the wing...

    So Mary climb in...
    It's a town full of losers, baby
    And we're pulling out of here to win...
    -Bruce Springsteen

     

     

    And I wrote that entirely from memory (more at my own surprise than anything). Night.