Текст песни October In the Railroad Earth - Jack Kerouac , Jack Kerouac & Steve Allen , Steve Allen

There was a little alley in San Francisco
Back of the Southern Pacific station at Third and Townsend
In red brick of drowsy lazy afternoons
With everybody at work in offices
In the air you feel the impending rush of the commuter frenzy
As soon they'll be charging en masse from market
And Sansome buildings on foot and in buses and all well dressed
Through workingman Frisco of walk-up truck drivers
And even the poor grime bemarked Third Street
Of lost bums, even Negroes
So hopeless and long left East
And meanings of responsibility and Try
That now all they do is stand there spitting in the broken glass
Sometimes fifty in one afternoon against one wall at Third and Howard
And here's all these Millbrae and San Carlos
Neat necktie producers and commuters of America
And steel civilization
Rushing by with San Francisco Chronicles
And Green Call Bulletins
Not even enough time to be disdainful
They've got to catch 1:30, 1:32, 1:34, 1:36
All the way up to 1:46
Till the time of evening supper in homes of the railroad earth
When high in the sky the magic stars ride above the following
Hot-shot freight trains
It's all in California, it's all a sea
I swim out of it in afternoons of sun-hot meditation in my jeans
With head on handkerchief on brakeman's lantern
Or, if not working, on book
I look up at blue sky of perfect lost purity
And feel the warp of wood of old America beneath me
And I have insane conversations with Negroes
In second-story windows above
And everything is pouring in
The switching moves of boxcars in that little alley
Which is so much like the alleys of Lowell
And I hear far off in the sense of coming night
That engine calling our mountains
But it was that beautiful cut of clouds
I could always see above the little S.P. alley
Puffs floating by from Oakland
Or the Gate of Marin to the north or San Jose south
The clarity of Cal to break your heart
It was the fantastic drowsing drum hum
Of lum mum afternoon nathin to do
Old Frisco with end of land sadness
The people
The alley full of trucks and cars of businesses near abouts
Nobody knew or far from cared who I was
All my life three thousand five hundred miles from birth
All opened up and at last belonged to me in great America
And now it's night in Third Street
The keen little neons and also yellow bulb lights
Of impossible to believe flops
The dark ruined shadows moving back of torn yellow shades
Like a degenerate china with no money
The cats in Annie's alley
The flop comes on, moans, rolls
The street is loaded with darkness
Blue sky above with stars hanging high over old hotel roofs
And blowers of hotels moaning out dusts of interior
The grime inside the word in mouths is falling out tooth by tooth
The reading room's tick tock big clock
With creaked chair and slant boards
And old faces looking up over rimless spectacles
Bought in some West Virginia or Florida
Or Liverpool England pawnshop
Long before I was born
And across rains they've come to the end of the land sadness
End of the world gladness
All your San Francisco's will have to fall eventually and burn again
But I'm walking
And one night a bum fell into the hole of the construction job
Where they're tearing a sewer by day
The husky Pacific and Electric youths in torn jeans
Who work there often I think of going up to some of them like
Say blond ones with wild hair and torn shirts and say
"You ought to apply for the railroad, it's much easier work
You don't stand around the street all day and you get much more pay"
But this bum fell in the hole, you saw his foot stick out
British MG also driven by some eccentric
Once backed into that hole
And as I came home from a long sad day afternoon local
To Hollister out of San Jose miles away
Across verdurous fields of prune and juice joy
Here's this British MG backed
And legs up wheels up into a pit
And bums and cops standing right outside the coffee shop
It was the way they fenced it
But he never had the nerve to do it
Due to the fact that he had no money and nowhere to go
And oh his father was dead and oh his mother was dead
And oh his sister was dead and oh his whereabout was dead was dead
But and then at that time also
I used to lay in my room on long sad day afternoons
Listening to Jumpin' George with my fifth of Tokay, no tea
And just under the sheets laugh to hear the crazy music
Mama, he treats your daughter mean
Mama, papa, don't you come in here, I'll kill you, etc
Getting high by myself in room glooms
And all wondrous knowing about the Negro
The essential American
Out there always finding his solace
His meaning in the fellaheen street
And not in abstract morality
And even when he has a church
You see the pastor out front bowing to the ladies on the make
You hear his great vibrant voice on the Sunday
Afternoon sidewalk full of sexual vibrato saying
"Why yes ma'am but the gospel do say
That man was born of woman's womb"
No, and so by that time I come crawling out of my warm sack
And hit the street
When I see the railroad ain't going to call me
Till 5 a.m. Sunday morn probably
For a local out of Bay Shore
In fact always for a local out of Bay Shore
And I go to the whale bar of all the wild bars in the world
The one and only Third and Howard
And there I go in and drink with the madmen
And if I get drunk I get
The girl who come up to me in there one night
I was there with Al Buckle, said to me
"You want to play with me tonight Jim?"
And I didn't think I had enough money
And I told this to Charlie Lowe and he laughed said
"How do you know she wanted money?
Always take the chance that she might be out just for love
Or just out for love, you know what I mean
Don't be a sucker"
She was a good-looking doll and she said
"How would you like to ool you kool with me mon?"
And I stood there like a jerk
In fact bought drink, gut drink, drunk that night
And in the 299 Club I was hit by the proprietor
The band breaking up the fight
Before I had a chance to decide to hit him back
Which I didn't want to do anyway
And out on the street
I tried to rush back in but they had locked the door
And were looking at me through the forbidden glass in the door
With faces like undersea
I should have played with her shoodoodoodoodookadookie