Well it's Saturday night in New Jersey. And you're feeling kinda wet. Now the summer heat is getting you worried. So you try to look as innocent as you can as you sweat. And you've got a woman on the other side of the law. But it ain't cool to go see her yet. Because her ex-old man's a city cop. Who thinks he's auditioning for Dragnet. So you stand on the corner looking kinda torn. And in the Blue Light Lounge. Where death was born. The jazz musician blows his horn. You pop a letter to your baby in Richmond. 'Cause you're feeling pretty down. She's kinda small but at least she's a rich one. Oh and she needs you real bad. And sometimes that's all that counts. You had a teenage band and flying hands. And oh you was pretty big you were pretty big in the. South. But you passed out on stage and flew into a rage. And someone tried to revive you. mouth to mouth. You felt a pain in your chest. As you passed the crown. And in the Blue Light Lounge. The lights went down. And the audience slipped silently out of town. Well now the atheist he burns you for laughing out loud. Because he can't understand what you're saying. And the word's out when they pushed him in the hole. Everybody knows that he went out praying. Oh now the park is dark but the sidewalk's bright. And alive with the light of the living. Oh and mama can I walk you home tonight. 'Cause it's a big bad city. And this boy's got a lot for the givingI'm stranded in the jungle. First stage witness at a company killing. I'm clutching my high school diploma shuffling my feet. Promised sixty bucks a week. And guaranteed top billing. Well you can live a life of love in New York. Only if you don't if you don't love living. And I met this taxi driver who drives me around town. Telling tales of his back seat women. And out on the corner there's no room to move. 'Cause everybody's trying so hard to groove. And in the Blue Light Lounge. The jazz musician plays his blues.