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Open All Night (Electric Nebraska)
Bruce Springsteen
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A-one, two, three, four
Well, I had the carburetor, baby, cleaned and checked
With her line blown out, she's hummin' like a turbojet
I propped her up in the backyard on concrete blocks
For a new clutch plate and a new set of shocks
Took her down to the carwash, checked the plugs and points
Because I'm goin' out tonight, I'm gonna rock this joint
Early North Jersey, industrial skyline
I'm an all-set Cobra Jet creepin' through the nighttime
Gotta find a gas station, gotta find a pay phone
This turnpike sure is spooky at night when you're all alone
I hit the gas because I'm runnin' late
This New Jersey in the mornin' like a lunar landscape
Whoo!
That's right
How the boss don't dig me, so he put me on the nightshift
Takes me two hours to get back to where my baby lives
In the wee, wee hours, your mind gets hazy
Radio relay towers, won't you lead me to my baby?
Underneath the overpass, a trooper hits his party light switch
Goodnight, good luck, one-two, powershift
I met Wanda when she was employed
Behind the counter at the Route 60 Bob's Big Boy
Fried chicken on the front seat, she's sittin' on my lap
We're wipin' our fingers on a Texaco roadmap
I remember Wanda up on Scrap Metal Hill
With them big brown eyes that make your heart stand still
Whoo-ooh, hoo
Whoa
Yeah, uh
Yeah, that's the one
Yeah, 5 a.m, the oil pressure's sinkin' fast
I make a pit stop, wipe the windshield, buddy, check the gas
I gotta call my baby on the telephone
Let her know that her daddy boy's comin' on home
"I got a-two more hours, but I'm coverin' bround
It's 6 a.m. on Sunday mornin', I'm a-comin' around"
My eyes are gettin' itchy in the wee-wee hours
Sun's just a red ball risin' over them refinery towers
Radio jammed up with gospel stations
Lost souls callin' long distance salvation
Hey Mr. DJ, you gotta hear my last prayer
Hey ho, rock and roll, deliver me from nowhere
ย
Hold it
Whoo! Ooh
Hello, baby
ย