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The Message - Grandmaster Flash |
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It's like a jungle sometimes |
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It makes me wonder how I keep from goin' under |
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|
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Broken glass everywhere |
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People pissin' on the stairs, you know they just don't care |
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I can't take the smell, can't take the noise |
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Got no money to move out, I guess I got no choice |
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Rats in the front room, roaches in the back |
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Junkies in the alley with a baseball bat |
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I tried to get away but I couldn't get far |
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'cuz a man with a tow truck repossessed my car |
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Don't push me 'cuz I'm close to the edge |
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I'm trying not to lose my head |
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Uh huh ha ha ha |
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It's like a jungle sometimes |
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It makes me wonder how I keep from goin' under |
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|
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Standin' on the front stoop hangin' out the window |
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Watchin' all the cars go by, roarin' as the breezes blow |
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Crazy lady, livin' in a bag |
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Eatin' outta garbage pails, used to be a fag hag |
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Said she'll dance the tango, skip the light fandango |
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A Zircon princess seemed to lost her senses |
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Down at the peep show watchin' all the creeps |
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So she can tell her stories to the girls back home |
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She went to the city and got social security |
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She had to get a pimp, she couldn't make it on her own |
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push Don't me 'cuz I'm close to the edge |
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I'm trying not to lose my head |
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huh ha Uh ha ha |
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It's like a jungle sometimes |
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It makes me wonder how I keep from goin' under |
| [02:12.73] |
|
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It's like a jungle sometimes |
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It makes me wonder how I keep from goin' under |
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|
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My brother's doin' bad, stole my mother's TV |
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Says she watches too much, it's just not healthy |
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"All My Children" in the daytime, "Dallas" at night |
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Can't even see the game or the Sugar Ray fight |
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The bill collectors, they ring my phone |
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and scare my wife when I'm not home |
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Got a bum education, double-digit inflation |
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Can't take the train to the job, there's a strike at the station |
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Neon King Kong standin' on my back |
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Can't stop to turn around, broke my sacroiliac |
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A mid-range migraine, cancered membrane |
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Sometimes I think I'm goin' insane |
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I swear I might hijack a plane! |
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Don't push me 'cuz I'm close to the edge |
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|
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I'm trying not to lose my head |
| [02:55.94] |
|
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It's like a jungle sometimes |
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It makes me wonder how I keep from goin' under |
| [03:00.63] |
|
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It's like a jungle sometimes |
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It makes me wonder how I keep from goin' under |
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|
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My son said, Daddy, I don't wanna go to school |
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'cuz the teacher's a jerk, he must think I'm a fool |
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And all the kids smoke reefer, I think it'd be cheaper |
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if I just got a job, learned to be a street sweeper |
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Or dance to the beat, shuffle my feet |
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Wear a shirt and tie and run with the creeps |
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'cuz it's all about money, ain't a damn thing funny |
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You got to have a con in this land of milk and honey |
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They pushed that girl in front of the train |
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Took her to the doctor, sewed her arm on again |
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Stabbed that man right in his heart |
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Gave him a transplant for a brand new start |
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I can't walk through the park 'cuz it's crazy after dark |
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Keep my hand on my 'cuz gun they got me on the run |
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I feel like a outlaw, broke my last glass jaw |
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Hear them say "You want some more?" |
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Livin' on a see-saw |
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Don't push me 'cuz I'm close to the edge |
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|
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I'm trying not to lose my head |
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Say what? |
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|
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It's like a jungle sometimes |
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It makes me wonder how I keep from goin' under |
| [04:35.96] |
|
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It's like a jungle sometimes |
| [04:38.34] |
It makes me wonder how I keep from goin' under |
| [04:40.39] |
|
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It's like a jungle sometimes |
| [04:43.14] |
It makes me wonder how I keep from goin' under |
| [04:45.39] |
|
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It's like a jungle sometimes |
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It makes me wonder how I keep from goin' under |
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|
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A child is born with no state of mind |
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Blind to the ways of mankind |
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God is smilin' on you but he's frownin' too |
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Because only God knows what you'll go through |
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You'll grow in the ghetto livin' second-rate |
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And your eyes will sing a song called deep hate |
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The places you play and where you stay |
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Looks like one great big alleyway |
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You'll admire all the number-book takers |
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Thugs, pimps and pushers and the big money-makers |
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Drivin' big cars, spendin' twenties and tens |
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And you'll wanna grow up to be just like them, huh |
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Smugglers, scramblers, burglars, gamblers |
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Pickpocket peddlers, even panhandlers |
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You say I'm cool, huh, I'm no fool |
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But then you wind up droppin' outta high school |
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Now you're unemployed, all non-void |
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Walkin' round like you're Pretty Boy Floyd |
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Turned stick-up kid, but look what you done did |
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Got sent up for a eight-year bid |
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Now your manhood is took and you're a Maytag |
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Spend the next two years as a undercover fag |
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Bein' used and abused to serve like hell |
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'til one day, you was found hung dead in the cell |
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It was plain to see that your life was lost |
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You was cold and your body swung back and forth |
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But now your eyes sing the sad, sad song |
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Of how you lived so fast and died so young so... |
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Don't push me 'cuz I'm close to the edge |
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I'm trying not to lose my head |
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Uh huh huh huh huh |
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It's like a jungle sometimes |
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It makes me wonder how I keep from goin' under |
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Huh, uh huh huh huh huh |
| [06:12.63] |
It's like a jungle sometimes |
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It makes me wonder how I keep from goin' under |
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Huh, uh huh huh huh huh |
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