Luyện nghe bài hát The Jungle Line

Rousseau on trumpet paths
Safaris to the of all that jazz
I bars and girders, through wires and pipes
The mathematic circuits of the nights

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

In a blouse she brings the beer
Rousseau paints a jungle behind her ear
cannibals of shuck and jive
They'll eat a working girl her alive

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

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

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

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

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