Greetings From Asbury Park, N.J. Album

Artist(s): Bruce Springsteen

Cover Art

Bruce Springsteen Greetings From Asbury Park, N.J. Cover Art

Tracklist

Blinded by the Light

length: 5:02
remixer: Jack Ashkinazy
producer: Jim Cretecos and Mike Appel
engineer: לואי להב
arranger: Bruce Springsteen
piano: Harold Wheeler
bass: Bruce Springsteen
percussion: Clarence Clemons
saxophone: Clarence Clemons
vocal: Bruce Springsteen
composer: Bruce Springsteen
lyricist: Bruce Springsteen

Madman drummers bummers and Indians in the summer with a teenage diplomat
In the dumps with the mumps as the adolescent pumps his way into his hat
With a boulder on my shoulder, feelin' kinda older, I tripped the merry-go-round
With this very unpleasing sneezing and wheezing, the calliope crashed to the ground
Some all-hot half-shot was headin' for the hot spot, snappin' his fingers, clappin' his hands
And some fleshpot mascot was tied into a lover's knot with a whatnot in her hand
And now young Scott with a slingshot finally found a tender spot and throws his lover in the sand
And some bloodshot forget-me-not whispers, "Daddy's within earshot, save the buckshot, turn up the band"

And she was blinded by the light
Cut loose like a deuce, another runner in the night
Blinded by the light
She got down but she never got tight, but she'll make it alright

Some brimstone baritone anti-cyclone rolling stone preacher from the East
He says, "Dethrone the dictaphone, hit it in its funny bone, that's where they expect it least"
And some new-mown chaperone was standin' in the corner all alone, watchin' the young girls dance
And some fresh-sown moonstone was messin' with his frozen zone to remind him of the feeling of romance

Yeah, he was blinded by the light
Cut loose like a deuce, another runner in the night
Blinded by the light
He got down but he never got tight, but he's gonna make it tonight

Some silicone sister with her manager's mister told me I got what it takes
She said, "I'll turn you on, sonny, to something strong if you play that song with the funky break"
And Go-Cart Mozart was checkin' out the weather chart to see if it was safe to go outside
And little Early-Pearly came by in her curly-wurly and asked me if I needed a ride
Oh, some hazard from Harvard was skunked on beer, playin' backyard bombardier
Yes, and Scotland Yard was trying hard, they sent some dude with a calling card, he said, "Do what you like, but don't do it here"
Well, I jumped up, turned around, spit in the air, fell on the ground and asked him which was the way back home
He said, "Take a right at the light, keep goin' straight until night, and then, boy, you're on your own"
And now in Zanzibar, a shootin' star was ridin' in a side car, hummin' a lunar tune
Yes, and the avatar said, "Blow the bar but first remove the cookie jar, we're gonna teach those boys to laugh too soon"
And some kidnapped handicap was complainin' that he caught the clap from some mousetrap he bought last night
Well, I unsnapped his skull cap and between his ears I saw a gap but figured he'd be all right

He was just blinded by the light
Cut loose like a deuce, another runner in the night
Blinded by the light
Mama always told me not to look into the sights of the sun
Oh, but Mama, that's where the fun is
I was blinded
I was blinded
I was blinded

Growin’ Up

length: 3:06
remixer: Jack Ashkinazy
producer: Jim Cretecos and Mike Appel
engineer: לואי להב
arranger: Bruce Springsteen
vocal: Bruce Springsteen
composer: Bruce Springsteen
lyricist: Bruce Springsteen
I stood stone-like at midnight, suspended in my masquerade
I combed my hair till it was just right and commanded the night brigade
I was open to pain and crossed by the rain and I walked on a crooked crutch
I strolled all alone through a fallout zone and come out with my soul untouched
I hid in the clouded wrath of the crowd, but when they said, "Sit down," I stood up
Ooh... growin' up

The flag of piracy flew from my mast, my sails were set wing to wing
I had a jukebox graduate for first mate, she couldn't sail but she sure could sing
I pushed B-52 and bombed them with the blues with my gear set stubborn on standing
I broke all the rules, strafed my old high school, never once gave thought to landing
I hid in the clouded wrath of the crowd, but when they said, "Come down," I threw up
Ooh... growin' up

I took month-long vacations in the stratosphere, and you know it's really hard to hold your breath
I swear I lost everything I ever loved or feared, I was the cosmic kid in full costume dress
Well, my feet they finally took root in the earth, but I got me a nice little place in the stars
And I swear I found the key to the universe in the engine of an old parked car
I hid in the mother breast of the crowd, but when they said, "Pull down," I pulled up
Ooh... growin' up
Ooh... growin' up

Mary Queen of Arkansas

length: 5:20
remixer: Jack Ashkinazy
producer: Jim Cretecos and Mike Appel
engineer: לואי להב
arranger: Bruce Springsteen
vocal: Bruce Springsteen
composer: Bruce Springsteen
lyricist: Bruce Springsteen
Mary queen of Arkansas, it's not too early for dreamin'
The sky is grown with cloud seed sown and a bastard's love can be redeeming
Mary, my queen, your soft hulk is reviving
No, you're not too late to desecrate, the servants are just rising

Well, I'm just a lonely acrobat, the live wire is my trade
I've been a shine boy for your acid brat and a wharf rat of your state
Mary, my queen, your blows for freedom are missing
You're not man enough for me to hate or woman enough for kissing

The big top is for dreamers, we can take the circus all the way to the border
And the gallows wait for martyrs whose papers are in order
But I was not born to live to die, and you were not born for queenin'
It's not to late to infiltrate, the servants are just leavin'

Mary queen of Arkansas, your white skin is deceivin'
You wake and wait to lie in bait and you almost got me believin'
But on your bed, Mary, I can see the shadow of a noose
I don't understand how you can hold me so tight and love me so damn loose

But I know a place where we can go, Mary
Where I can get a good job and start out all over again clean
I got contacts deep in Mexico where the servants have been seen

Does This Bus Stop at 82nd Street?

length: 2:05
remixer: Jack Ashkinazy
producer: Jim Cretecos and Mike Appel
engineer: לואי להב
arranger: Bruce Springsteen
vocal: Bruce Springsteen
composer: Bruce Springsteen
lyricist: Bruce Springsteen
Hey bus driver, keep the change, bless your children, give them names
Don't trust men who walk with canes
Drink this and in a week you'll have wings on your feet
Broadway Mary, Joan Fontaine, adviser on the downdown train
Christmas crier bustin' cane
He's in love again

Where dock workers' dreams mix with panthers' schemes to someday own the rodeo
Tainted women in Vistavison perform for out-of-state kids at the late show

Wizard imps and sweat-sock pimps
Mixed with interstallar mongrel nymphs
Rex said his lady left him limp
Well you know love's like that
Well Mary Lou found out how to cope
She rides to heaven on a gyroscope
The daily news askes her for the dope
And she says "Man, the dope's that there's still hope"

Well now queen of diamonds, ace of spades
Newly discovered lovers of the everglades
They take out a full page ad in the trades to annouce their arrival
Senorita, spanish rose, wipes her eyes and blows he nose
Uptown in Harlem she throws a rose to some lucky youung matador

Lost in the Flood

length: 5:14
remixer: Jack Ashkinazy
producer: Jim Cretecos and Mike Appel
engineer: לואי להב
arranger: Bruce Springsteen
vocal: Bruce Springsteen
composer: Bruce Springsteen
lyricist: Bruce Springsteen
arranger: Bruce Springsteen
publishing: Bruce Springsteen
The ragamuffin gunner is returnin' home like a hungry runaway
He walks through town all alone--"He must be from the fort," he hears the high school girls say
His countryside's burnin' with wolfman fairies dressed in drag for homicide
The hit-and-run plead sanctuary, 'neath a holy stone they hide
They're breakin' beams and crosses with a spastic's reelin' perfection
Nuns run bald through Vatican halls, pregnant, pleadin' immaculate conception
And everybody's wrecked on Main Street from drinking unholy blood
Sticker smiles sweet as Gunner breathes deep, his ankles caked in mud
And I said, "Hey, gunner man, that's qucksand, that's quicksand, that ain't mud
Have you thrown your senses to the war, or did you lose them in the flood?"

That pure American brother, dull-eyed and empty-faced
Races Sundays in Jersey in a Chevy stock super eight
He rides 'er low on the hip, on the side he's got "Bound for Glory" in red, white and blue flash paint
He leans on the hood telling racing stories, the kids call him Jimmy the Saint
Well, that blaze-and-noise boy, he's gunnin' that bitch loaded to blastin' point
He rides head first into a hurricane and disappears into a point
And there's nothin' left but some blood where the body fell, that is, nothin' left that you could sell
Just junk all across the horizon, a real highwayman's farewell
And I said, "Hey kid, you think that's oil? Man, that ain't oil, that's blood"
I wonder what he was thinking when he hit that storm, or was he just lost in the flood?

Eighth Avenue sailors in satin shirts whisper in the air
Some storefront incarnation of Maria, she's puttin' on me the stare
And Bronx's best apostle stands with his hand on his own hardware
Everything stops, you hear five quick shots, the cops come up for air
And now the whiz-bang gang from uptown, they're shootin' up the street
And that cat from the Bronx starts lettin' loose, but he gets blown right off his feet
And some kid comes blastin' 'round the corner, but a cop puts him right away
He lays on the street holding his leg, screaming something in Spanish, still breathing when I walked away
And somebody said, "Hey man, did you see that? His body hit the street with such a beautiful thud"
I wonder what the dude was sayin', or was he just lost in the flood?
Hey man, did you see that, those poor cats are sure messed up
I wonder what they were gettin' into, or were they just lost in the flood?

The Angel

length: 3:23
remixer: Jack Ashkinazy
producer: Jim Cretecos and Mike Appel
vocal: Bruce Springsteen
engineer: לואי להב
arranger: Bruce Springsteen
double bass: Richard Davis
composer: Bruce Springsteen
lyricist: Bruce Springsteen
The angel rides with hunchbacked children, poison oozing from his engine
Wieldin' love as a lethal weapon, on his way to hubcap heaven
Baseball cards poked in his spokes, his boots in oil he's patiently soaked
The roadside attendant nervously jokes as the angel's tires stroke his precious pavement

The interstate's choked with nomadic hordes
In Volkswagen vans with full running boards
Dragging great anchors, followin' dead-end signs into the sores
The angel rides by humpin' his hunk metal whore

Madison Avenue's claim to fame in a trainer bra with eyes like rain
She rubs against the weatherbeaten frame and asks the angel for his name
Off in the distance the marble dome reflects across the flatlands with a naked feel off into parts unknown
The woman strokes his polished chrome and lies beside the angel's bones

For You

length: 4:39
remixer: Jack Ashkinazy
producer: Jim Cretecos and Mike Appel
engineer: לואי להב
arranger: Bruce Springsteen
vocal: Bruce Springsteen
composer: Bruce Springsteen
lyricist: Bruce Springsteen
arranger: Bruce Springsteen
Princess cards she sends me with her regards
Barroom eyes shine vacancy, to see her you gotta look hard
Wounded deep in battle, I stand stuffed like some soldier undaunted
To her Cheshire smile, I'll stand on file, she's all I ever wanted
But you let your blue walls get in the way of these facts
Honey, get your carpetbaggers off my back
You wouldn't even give me time to cover my tracks
You said, "Here's your mirror and your ball and jacks"
But they're not what I came for, and I'm sure you see that too

[Chorus:]
I came for you, for you, I came for you
But you did not need my urgency
I came for you, for you, I came for you
But your life was one long emergency
And your cloud line urges me
And my electric surges free

Crawl into my ambulance, your pulse is getting weak
Reveal yourself all now to me, girl, while you've got the strength to speak
'Cause they're waiting for you at Bellevue with their oxygen masks
But I could give it all to you now, if only you could ask
And don't call for your surgeon, even he says it's too late
It's not your lungs this time, it's your heart that holds your fate
Don't give me my money, honey, I don't want it back
You and your pony face and your Union Jack
Well, take your local joker and teach him how to act
I swear I was never that way, even when I really cracked
Didn't you think I knew that you were born with the power of a locomotive
Able to leap tall buildings in a single bound?
And your Chelsea suicide with no apparent motive
You could laugh and cry in a single sound

And your strength is devastating in the face of all these odds
Remember how I kept you waiting when it was my turn to be the god?

You were not quite half so proud when I found you broken on the beach
Remember how I poured salt on your tongue and hung just out of reach
And the band, they played the homecoming theme as I caressed your cheek
That ragged, jagged melody, she still clings to me like a leech
But that medal you wore on your chest always got in the way
Like a little girl with a trophy so soft to buy her way
We were both hitchhikers but you had your ear tuned to the roar
Of some metal-tempered engine on an alien, distant shore
So you left to find a better reason than the one we were living for
And it's not that nursery mouth that I came back for
It's not the way you're stretched out on the floor
'Cause I've broken all your windows and I've rammed through all your doors
And who am I to ask you to lick my sores?
And you should know that's true

[Chorus:]

Spirit in the Night

length: 4:58
remixer: Jack Ashkinazy
producer: Mike Appel and Jim Cretecos
engineer: לואי להב
arranger: Bruce Springsteen
piano & bass: Bruce Springsteen
percussion: Clarence Clemons
piano: Harold Wheeler
saxophone: Clarence Clemons
vocal: Bruce Springsteen
composer: Bruce Springsteen
lyricist: Bruce Springsteen
arranger: Bruce Springsteen
Crazy Janey and her mission man
Were back in the alley tradin' hands
'Long came Wild Billy with his friend G-Man
All duded up for Saturday night
Well, Billy slammed on his coaster brakes
And said, "Anybody wanna go on up to Greasy Lake?
It's about a mile down on the dark side of Route 88
I got a bottle of rosé so let's try it
We'll pick up Hazy Davy and Killer Joe
And I'll take you all out to where the gypsy angels go
They're build like light
And they dance like spirits in the night (all night), in the night (all night)
Oh, you don't know what they can do to you
Spirits in the night (all night), in the night (all night)
Stand up right now and let them shoot through you"

Well now, Wild Billy was a crazy cat
And he shook some dust out of his coonskin cap
He said, "Trust some of this, it'll show you where you're at
Or at least it'll help you really feel it"
By the time we made it up to Greasy Lake
I had my head out the window and Janey's fingers were in the cake
I think I really dug her 'cause I was too loose to fake
I said, "I'm hurt." She said, "Honey, let me heal it"
And we danced all night to a soul fairy band
And she kissed me just right, like only a lonely angel can
She felt so nice
Just as soft as a spirit in the night (all night), in the night (all night)
Janey don't know what she do to you
Spirit in the night (all night), in the night (all night)
Stand right up and let her shoot through me

Now, the night was bright and the stars threw light
On Billy and Davy dancin' in the moonlight
They were down near the water in a stone mud fight
Killer Joe gone passed out on the lawn
Well now, Hazy Davy got really hurt
He ran into the lake in just his socks and his shirt
Me and Crazy Janey was makin' love in the dirt
Singin' our birthday songs
Janey said it was time to go
So we closed our eyes and said goodbye to Gypsy Angel Row
Felt so right
Together we moved like spirits in the night (all night), in the night (all night)...

(FADE)

It’s Hard to Be a Saint in the City

length: 3:13
remixer: Jack Ashkinazy
producer: Jim Cretecos and Mike Appel
engineer: לואי להב
arranger: Bruce Springsteen
vocal: Bruce Springsteen
composer: Bruce Springsteen
lyricist: Bruce Springsteen
arranger: Bruce Springsteen
I had skin like leather and the diamond-hard look of a cobra
I was born blue and weathered but I burst just like a supernova
I could walk like Brando right into the sunThen dance just like a Casanova
With my blackjack and jacket and hair slicked sweet
Silver star studs on my duds like a Harley in heat
When I strut down the street I could feel its heartbeat
The sisters fell back and said "Don't that man look pretty"
The cripple on the corner cried out "Nickels for your pity"
Them downtown boys sure talk grittyIt's so hard to be a saint in the city
I was the king if the alley I could talk some trash
I was the prince of the paupers crowned downtown at the beggar's bash
I was the pimp's main prophet I kept everythning cool
A backstreet gambler with the luck to lose
And when the heat came down it was left on the ground
The devil appeared like Jesus through the steam in the street
Showin' me a hand I knew even the cops couldn't beat
I felt his hot breath on my neck as I dove into the heat
It's so hard to be a saint when you're just a boy
And the sages of the subway sit just like the living dead
As the tracks clack out the rhythm their eyes fixed straightahead
They ride the line of balance and hold on by just a thread
But it's too hot in these tunnels you can get hit up by the heat
You get up to get out at your next stop but they push you
back down in your seat
Your heart starts beatin' faster as you struggle to your feet
Then you're outa that hole and back up on the street
And them South Side sisters sure look pretty
The cripple on the corner cries out "Nickels for your pity"
And them downtown boys sure talk grittyIt's so hard to be a saint in the city