Luyện nghe bài hát The Jungle Line

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

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

In a low-cut she brings the beer
Rousseau a jungle flower behind her ear
Those cannibals of and jive
eat a working girl like her alive

With his hard-edged eye and his hand
He paints the cellar full of ferns and vines
And he hangs a moon above a five-piece
He hangs it up above the line

The jungle line, the jungle
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, and fine
And charging and chanting slaving boats
Charging, chanting down the line

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

And metal skin and birds
Go steaming up to Rousseau's
They go up to Brooklyn Bridge
Steaming, steaming, steaming up the line