Open All Night (Live at Brendan Byrne Arena, 7/25/1992)

Well, I had the carburetor, baby, cleaned and checked

With her line blown out she's hummin' like a turbojet

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, check 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 pay phone

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 takes me two hours to get back to where my baby lives

In the wee wee hours your mind gets hazy

Radio relays towers, won't you lead me to my baby?

Underneath the overpass, trooper hits his party light switch

Good night, 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 sitting in my lap

We're wiping our fingers on a Texaco road map

I remember Wanda up on scrap metal hill

With them big brown eyes that make your heart stand still

Woo-hoo, woo!

Ha!

C'mon now, hey

Well at five A.M. oil pressure's sinking 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 coming on home

Sit tight, little mama, I'm a-coming 'round

I got a-three more hours but I'm covering ground

Your eyes get itchy in the wee wee hours

Sun's just a red ball rising over them refinery towers

Radio's jammed up with gospel stations

Lost souls calling long distance salvation

Hey mister deejay won't you hear my last prayer?

Hey ho rock 'n roll deliver me from nowhere

Hey da da di da, di da da

Oh hey da da di da, di da da

Oh hey da da di da, di da da

Oh hey da da