Bruce Springsteen

Here is one of the best videos i have seen in a while

Enjoy Lyrics Below

I get up in the evening and I ain’t got nothing to say
I come home in the morning, I go to bed feelin’ the same way
I ain’t nothing but tired, man I’m just tired and bored with myself
Hey there baby, I could use just a little help

You can’t start a fire, you can’t start a fire without a spark
This gun’s for hire even if we’re just dancing in the dark

Message just keep getting clearer, radio’s on and I’m moving ’round my place*
I check my look in the mirror, I wanna change my clothes, my hair, my face
Man, I ain’t getting nowhere, I’m just living in a dump like this
There’s something happening somewhere, baby I just know that there is

You can’t start a fire, you can’t start a fire without a spark
This gun’s for hire even if we’re just dancing in the dark

You sit around getting older, there’s a joke here somewhere and it’s on me
I’ll shake this world off my shoulders, come on baby this laugh’s on me

Stay on the streets of this town and they’ll be carving you up alright
They say you gotta stay hungry, hey baby, I’m just about starving tonight
I’m dying for some action, I’m sick of sitting ’round here tryin’ to write this book
I need a love reaction, come on now baby gimme just one look

You can’t start a fire sitting ’round cryin’ over a broken heart
This gun’s for hire even if we’re just dancing in the dark
You can’t start a fire worryin’ about your little world fallin’ apart
This gun’s for hire even if we’re just dancing in the dark
Even if we’re just dancing in the dark
Even if we’re just dancing in the dark
Even if we’re just dancing in the dark
Hey baby

This is when the Bruce Springsteen took over no nukes

Lyrics Below

Don’t you know that I danced, I danced till a quarter to three
With the help, last night, of Daddy G.
He was swingin’ on the sax like a nobody could
And I was dancin’ all over the room.
Oh, don’t you know the people were dancin’ like they were mad,
it was the swingin’est band they had, ever had.
It was the swingin’est song that could ever be,
It was a night with Daddy G.
Let me tell you now,
I never had it so good
Yeah and I know you never could
Until you get hip with that jive
And take a band like the Church Street Five.
Oh don’t you know that I danced,
I danced till a quarter to three
With the help last night of Daddy G.
Everybody was as happy as they could be
And they were swingin’ with Daddy G.
Blow Daddy!
Let me tell you now,
I never had it so good
Yeah and I know you never could
Until you get hip with that jive
And take a band like the Church Street Five.
Oh don’t you know that I danced,
I danced till a quarter to three
With the help last night of Daddy G.
He was swingin’ on the sax like a nobody could,
and I was dancin all over the room
Oh don’t you know the
Dance, do bee wa dah
Dance, do bee wah dah
You can dance, do bee wah dah,
You can dance, dance, dance

Super cover of a Johnny Cash Song

Here are the lyrics

I found him by the railroad track this morning
I could see that he was nearly dead
I knelt down beside him and I listened
To the words dying fellow saidHe said they let me out of prison down in Frisco
For ten long years I’ve paid for what I’ve done
I was trying to get back home in Louisiana
Just to see my Rose and get to know my son

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Lyrics
Dark weekends in the sun out on Chelsea Road
Descending the stairs, Frankie, my one
Check your makeup in the mirror c’mon babe let’s go
We’ll dance ’round this dirty town ’til the night is all done
Let all the finer things sleep alone tonight
Let all the minor kings lose their thrones tonight
Don’t worry about us, baby, we’ll be alright

Well everybody’s dying, this town’s closing down
They’re all sittin’ down at the courthouse waiting for ‘em to take the flag down
I see strange flashes in the sky up above
Gonna spend the night at the drive-in with the one that I love
At dusk the stars all appear on the screen
Yeah, just like they do each night in my dreams
But tonight’s no dream, Frankie, I can feel myself too
Well now and forever my love is for you

Walk softly tonight little stranger
Yeah into these shadows we’re passing through
Talk softly tonight, little angel
You make all my dream worlds come true

Well lately I’ve been standing out in the freezing rain
Readin’ them want ads out on Chelsea Road
I’m winging down the street in search of new games
Hustling through these nightlights’ diamond glow
Well Frankie I don’t know what I’m gonna find
Maybe nothing at all, maybe a world I can call mine
Shining like these streetlights down here on the strand
Bright as the rain in the palm of your hand

Walk softly tonight, little stranger
Into the shadows where lovers go
Talk softly to me, little angel

Was at this show became one of my favorite songs.When He goes tio the piano it always super!!!!!

Lyrics Below

Well from the tin rooftop the little boy did watch
The procession down through town
Yeah through the museum where Daniel whupped the Devil
With the boys from the underground
Where the Giants of Science fight for tight control
Over the wildlands of New Mexico
Sam Houston’s ghost’s in Texas fighting for his soul
And the townsfolk rest uneasy beneath the guns of Kid Colt
And the kid says “Hey, where is Santa Ana?”
He who could romance the dumb into talking
Take a chance with me tonight, my contessa
If it don’t work out I ain’t lame, I can walk
Some folks think cancer’s taken to the streets of this town
Well Sandy eats her candy and then lay her money down
And cats are in from the canyons to strut their stuff in town
But there’s only secret sinners here
Lord, there’s only secret thieves
Only a fool would try to save
What the desert chose to leave
Yeah well hey now senorita
With your playboys in their Spanish bandanas
French cream won’t soften those boots, baby
And French kisses will not break your heart, yeah!

Well painted night set free with light
Glows outside the Rainbow Saloon
I’m matching braces with a Spanish lady
‘Neath a graduation moon
No more colleges, no more coronations
Some punk’s idea of a teenage nation
Has forced Santa Ana to change his station
From soldier to cartoon
And the Giants of Science spend their days and nights
Not with wives, not with lovers, but searchin’ for the light
They spotted in the desert on their helicopter flights
Just to be lost in the dust and the night
Well now hey my contessa, in your juke joint rags you always bring candy for the kids
Come waltz with me tonight senorita
Only a fool is all alone on a night like this, hey!

Here’s my recommendation for a Thankgiving anthem for 2006: “American Land,” by Bruce Springsteen.

It’s a contemporary American folk song Bruce recently composed for the new edition of “We Shall Overcome: The Seeger Sessions.” Upon first hearing, it sounds like a garden-variety Irish-inflected immigrant song, extolling the joys of the American dream (”There’s treasures for the taking, for any hard working man/Who makes his home in the American land.”) But true to form, Bruce folds a deeper and more complex message into his American vision, proving once again why he is among the most powerful - if misunderstood - songwriters of our time. Listen carefully and you’ll catch his inclusion of illegal immigrants and even (gasp!) Arabs among those who reach our shores, hoping for a better life and future.

Every Thanksgiving, I’m mindful that like most Americans, my ancestors didn’t come over on the Mayflower. My paternal grandfather, Yitzhak (later Irving) Rosen up and left his home town of Kamen-Kashirsk in the northwest Ukraine when he was a teenager, certain that a better life must certainly await him somewhere else. After wending his way through Europe (among other things, serving as a soldier in WW I) he ended up in the American Land supporting a wife and two sons by driving a candy truck in City Terrace, Los Angeles. His two sons grew up to be a doctor and a lawyer - every Jewish parent’s dream come true.

As we debate immigration policy in our country today, I can’t help but think of the myriad of immense challeges my own grandparents faced when they immigrated here not so long ago - and how this hard fought dream continues even now. In the words of the song: “They died to get here a hundred years ago, they’re dyin’ now.”

Anyhow, Happy Thanksgiving. And sing this one around the table this year:

“American Land” by Bruce Springsteen

What is this land of America, so many travel there
I’m going now while I’m still young, my darling meet me there
Wish me luck my lovely, I’ll send for you when I can
And we’ll make our home in the American land

Over there all the woman wear silk and satin to their knees
And children dear, the sweets, I hear, are growing on the trees
Gold comes rushing out the river straight into your hands
If you make your home in the American land

There’s diamonds in the sidewalks, there’s gutters lined in song
Dear I hear that beer flows through the faucets all night long
There’s treasure for the taking, for any hard working man
Who will make his home in the American land

I docked at Ellis Island in a city of light and spire
I wandered to the valley of red-hot steel and fire
We made the steel that built the cities with the sweat of our two hands
And I made my home in the American land

The McNicholas, the Posalski’s, the Smiths, Zerillis too
The Blacks, the Irish, the Italians, the Germans and the Jews
The Puerto Ricans, illegals, the Asians, Arabs miles from home
Come across the water with a fire down below

They died building the railroads, worked to bones and skin
They died in the fields and factories, names scattered in the wind
They died to get here a hundred years ago, they’re dyin’ now
The hands that built the country were all trying to keep down

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