Open All Night

Though the car industry hereabouts has spent three decades dying a protracted death, its ancillaries still cluster all along Bloomfield Road marked by their hopeful signage: TYRES, EXHAUST, PARTS, ENGINE, MOT, CAR WASH. The same buildings that once serviced Triumphs, Austins and Morrises now look after Renaults and Skodas, and pray another rise in petrol duty won't shut them down for good.

Time for a bit of Springsteen.


Well I had the carburettor, baby, cleaned and checked
With her line blown out she's hummin like a turbo jet
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 car wash, checked the plugs and points
Well, I'm goin out tonight. I'm gonna rock that joint

Early north Jersey, industrial skyline
I'm a all-set cobra jet creepin through the nighttime
Gotta find a gas station, gotta find a payphone
This turnpike sure is spooky at night when you're all alone
Gotta hit the gas, baby. I'm running late
This New Jersey in the mornin like a lunar landscape

Now the boss don't dig me, so he put me on the night shift
It's an all night run 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, trooper hits his party light switch
Goodnight, good luck, one two power shift

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 in my lap
We're wipin our fingers on a Texaco roadmap
I remember Wanda up a scrap metal hill
With them big brown eyes that make your heart stand still

Well, at five a.m, oil pressure's sinkin fast
I make a pit stop, wipe the windshield, check the gas
Gotta call my baby on the telephone
Let her know that her daddy's comin on home
Sit tight, little mama, I'm comin round
I got three more hours, but I'm coverin ground

Your eyes get itchy in the wee wee hours
Sun's just a red ball risin over them refinery towers
Radio's jammed up with gospel stations
Lost souls callin long distance salvation
Hey Mr DJ, won't ya hear my last prayer?
Hey ho, rock & roll, deliver me from nowhere