Luyện nghe bài hát The Jungle Line

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

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

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

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

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

Pretty women funneled through and smoke
Coy and bitchy, wild and
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 dressing
Poppy poison, tourniquet
It slithers on brass like mouthpiece spit

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