Walking to work this morning I got a nice surprise from my iPod random playlist. I was crossing fifth avenue when a classic Springsteen song came on. Granted, with my limited playlist the chances of hearing a Springsteen song is about as good as hearing a taxi honk its horn. The Boss is always welcomed. Taxis, shut up. (Did you see him at Halftime last night? It was one of the best halftime shows I’ve seen in a long, long time.)
The song that played for me was Does this Bus Stop at 82nd Street?, an oldie but goody. If you live in NYC, you have to check out the lyrics. It’s a snapshot of things seen on a typical bus ride, and how vivid and concise Springsteen’s imagery can be. Let me know what you think.
Does this Bus Stop at 82nd Street?
Hey bus driver keep the change, bless your children, give them names,
don’t trust men who walk with canes
drink this and you’ll grow wings on your feet
Broadway Mary, Joan Fontaine, advertiser on a downtown train
Christmas crier bustin’ cane, he’s in love again.
Where dock worker’s dreams mix with panther’s schemes to someday own the rodeo
Tainted women in Vistavision perform for out-of-state kids at the late show.
Wizard imps and sweat sock pimps, interstellar mongrel nymphs
Rex said that lady left him limp. Love’s like that (sure it is).
Queen of diamonds, ace of spades, newly discovered lovers of the everglades
They take out a full page ad in the trades to announce their arrival
And Mary Lou she found out how to cope, she rides to heaven on a gyroscope
The Daily News asks her for the dope
She says “Man, the dope’s that there’s still hope”.
Senorita, Spanish rose, wipes her eyes and blows her nose
Uptown in Harlem she throw a rose to some lucky, young matador.