In the day we sweat it out on the streets Of a runaway American dream At night we ride through mansions of glory In suicide machines Sprung from cages on Highway 9 Chrome-wheeled, fuel-injected And steppin' out over the line Oh, baby this town rips the bones from your back It's a death trap, it's a suicide rap We gotta get out while we're young 'Cause tramps like us, baby we were born to run
Wendy, let me in, I wanna be your friend I wanna guard your dreams and visions Just wrap your legs 'round these velvet rims And strap your hands 'cross my engines Together we could break this trap We'll run till we drop, baby we'll never go back Oh, will you walk with me out on the wire 'Cause baby I'm just a scared and lonely rider But I gotta know how it feels I wanna know if your love is wild Baby, I wanna know if love is real
Beyond the place hemi-powered drones Scream down the boulevard Girls comb their hair in rear view mirrors And the boys try to look so hard The amusement park rises bold and stark And kids are huddled on the beach in the mist I wanna die with you Wendy on the streets tonight In an everlasting kiss
One, two, three, four Highway's jammed with broken heroes On a last-chance power drive Everybody's out on the road tonight but There's no place left to hide Together Wendy we can live with the sadness I'll love you with all the madness in my soul Oh, someday girl I don't know when We're gonna get to that place where really wanna go And we'll walk in the sun But till then tramps like us, baby we were born to run Tramps like us, baby we were born to run Come on Wendy, tramps like us Baby we were born to run Whoa, ooh Oh, oh, oh, oh Whoa, whoa, whoa Ooh Whoa, whoa, whoa Whoa, whoa, whoa Whoa, whoa, whoa.
Compositor: Bruce Springsteen (PRS)Editores: Eldridge Publishing Co., Sony/ATV Pop Music PublishingAdministração: Sony Music Publishing LLC, Sony/ATV Pop Music PublishingPublicado em 2005 (06/Jun) e lançado em 1995 (01/Mar)ECAD verificado obra #34177100 e fonograma #2434836 em 27/Abr/2024 com dados da UBEM