Luyện nghe bài hát The Jungle Line

Rousseau walks on paths
to the heart of all that jazz
Through I bars and girders, through wires and
The mathematic of the modern nights

Through huts, Harlem, through jails and gospel pews
Through the on park and the trash on vine
Through Europe and the deep, deep heart of blue
savage progress cuts the jungle line

In a low-cut blouse she brings the
paints a jungle flower behind her ear
Those of shuck and jive
They'll eat a working girl her alive

With his hard-edged eye and his steady
He paints the cellar of ferns and orchid vines
And he hangs a moon a five-piece band
He hangs it up above the jungle

The line, the jungle line
Screaming in a of sound and time
Floating, on the air-conditioned wind
And drooling for a of something smuggled in

Pretty women through valves and smoke
Coy and bitchy, wild and
And charging and chanting slaving boats
Charging, chanting down the jungle

a poppy wreath on a soldier's tomb
There's a poppy snake in a room
poison, poppy tourniquet
It slithers away on brass like mouthpiece

And skin and ivory birds
Go steaming up to vines
They go steaming up to Brooklyn
Steaming, steaming, steaming up the line