Santa Ana (Studio Outtake - 1973)

From the tin rooftop, the little boy did watch
The procession down through town
Through the museum where Daniel whupped the devil
With them boys from the underground

Where the Giants of Science fight for tight control
Over the wild lands of New Mexico
Sam Houston's ghost's in Texas fighting for his soul
And the townsfolk rest uneasy beneath the guns of Kid Cole

And the kid says, "Hey, where's Santa Ana?"
He who could romance the dumb into talking
Take a chance with me tonight, my contessa
If it don't work out I ain't lame, I can walk, hey!

Now some folks think cancer's taken to the streets of this town
But Sandy eats her candy and then lays her money down
Them cats are in from the canyons to strut their stuff in town

But there's only secret sinners here
Lord, there's only secret thieves
Only a fool would try to save
What the desert chose to leave

And now, hey there, señorita
With your playboys in their Spanish bandanas
French cream won't soften those boots, baby
French kisses will not break your heart, oh!

Oh, painted night set free with light
Glows outside the Rainbow Saloon
Matching braces with a Spanish lady
'Neath a graduation moon

No more colleges, no more coronations
Some punk's idea of a teenage nation
Has forced Santa Ana to change his station
From soldier to cartoon

And the Giants of Science spend their days and nights
Not with wives, not with lovers, but searchin' for the lights
They spotted in the desert on their helicopter flights
Just to be lost in the dust and the night

Hey, now my Contessa, in your juke joint rags
You always bring candy for the kids
Come waltz with me tonight, señorita
'Cause only fools are alone on a night like this, oh!

Whoa, you're callin', come on, darlin'
Alright, whoa, whoa, alright



Credits
Writer(s): Bruce Springsteen
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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