Luyện nghe bài hát The Jungle Line

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

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

In a blouse she brings the beer
paints a jungle flower behind her ear
Those cannibals of shuck and
They'll eat a working like her alive

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

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

Pretty women funneled valves and smoke
Coy and bitchy, and fine
And charging elephants and chanting boats
Charging, chanting the jungle line

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

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