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BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN - Balboa Park

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<pre><strong>BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN - Balboa Park</strong>

He grew up near the Zona Norte
With the hustlers and smugglers he hung out with
He swallowed their balloons of cocaine
Brought 'em across the Twelfth Street strip
Sleeping in a shelter
If the night got too cold
Runnin' from the migra
Of the border patrol

Past the salvage yard 'cross the train tracks
and in through the storm drain
they stretched their blankets out 'neath the freeway
and each one took a name
there was X-man and Cochise
Little Spider his sneakers covered in river mud
they come north to California
end up with the poison in their blood

He did what he had to do for the money
sometimes he sent home what he could spare
the rest went to high-top sneakers and toncho
and jeans like the gavachos wear

One night the border patrol swept Twelfth Street
a big car come fast down the boulevard
spider stood caught in its headlights
got hit and went down hard
As the car sped away Spider held his stomach
limped to his blanket 'neath the underpass
lie there tasting his own blood on his tongue
closed his eyes and listened to the cars

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He lay his blanket underneath the freeway As the evening sky grew dark Took a sniff of toncho from his coke can And headed through Balboa Park Where the men in their Mercedes Come nightly to employ In the cool San Diego evening The services of the border boys He grew up near the Zona Norte With the hustlers and smugglers he hung out with He swallowed their balloons of cocaine Brought 'em across the Twelfth Street strip Sleeping in a shelter If the night got too cold Runnin' from the migra Of the border patrol Past the salvage yard 'cross the train tracks and in through the storm drain they stretched their blankets out 'neath the freeway and each one took a name there was X-man and Cochise Little Spider his sneakers covered in river mud they come north to California end up with the poison in their blood He did what he had to do for the money sometimes he sent home what he could spare the rest went to high-top sneakers and toncho and jeans like the gavachos wear One night the border patrol swept Twelfth Street a big car come fast down the boulevard spider stood caught in its headlights got hit and went down hard As the car sped away Spider held his stomach limped to his blanket 'neath the underpass lie there tasting his own blood on his tongue closed his eyes and listened to the cars

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BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN - Balboa Park