Luyện nghe bài hát The Jungle Line

Rousseau walks on paths
Safaris to the heart of all jazz
Through I bars and girders, through and pipes
The circuits of the modern nights

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

In a low-cut blouse she 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 steady
He paints the cellar of ferns and orchid vines
And he hangs a moon above a band
He hangs it up above the jungle

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

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

There's a poppy on a soldier's tomb
There's a poppy in a dressing room
poison, poppy tourniquet
It slithers away on brass like spit

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