Bruce Springsteen
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Harry's Place

Bruce Springsteen

High Hopes


Downtown hipsters drinking up the drug line
Down in the kitchen working in the coal mine
Got a special sin, mister, you can't quite confess
Messy little problem, maybe baby need a new dress
Razorback diamond you shine too hard
Need a hammer
help you handle a little trouble in your backyard

Bring it on down to Harry's Place

When Harry speaks it's Harry's streets
in Harry's house it's Harry's roads
You don't wanna be around, brother, when Harry scolds
It's Harry's car, Harry's wife, Harry's dogs run Harry's town
Your blood and money spit shines Harry's crown
You don't fuck with Harry's money
you don't fuck Harry's girls
These are the rules, this is the world

Bring it on down to Harry's Place

You need a little shot of something, dear
to improve your health
A taste of that one little weakness you allow yourself
You're looking for the key of that box you locked yourself in
Just stood up to the line and be one of Harry's friends

Shadow on the corner, no light, no sign
Nobody on the street 'cept the deaf, dumb, and blind
Now Connor's on the couch, Father McGowan's at the bar
Chief Horden's at the door checking who the fuck you are

C saw Bobby dressed in drag and Mr. Nice
Carry me into a back room and dim the lights
My arms strapped to the table
a thousand angels spinning up the room
A voice whispers in my head, "We do what we must do"
When we bring it on down to Harry's Place
Bring it on down to Harry's Place

Nobody knows his number, nobody knows his name
If he didn't exist, it'd all go on just the same

Bring it on down to Harry's Place

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