(t. b. schmit/w. jennings/b. gaitsch)
When the feeling is lost i can find it
I go down to a street i know
It's a place where they live to unwind it
They lay back and just keep rolling
Sax man steps right out
Doesn't care who hears it
Gypsy bass picks a place where it's working
The drummer lays out some real life rhythm
When this old soul needs clearing
I stay until they bring me back
It ain't the radio
Living to play, you know
Down on jazz street
(meet me down on jazz street, yeah)
This ain't your hollywood
They really do it good
Down on jazz street
Down on jazz street there's one kind of people
Love the truth and they hate the jive
It's a church though it don't have a steeple
They're the ones who know what this life is
Down here they step out
They don't care who feels it
Every time they set me (to) flying
Seen them raise up the dead and dying
When your old heart is weary
They'll give you everything you lack
So when your soul needs clearing
Go down where they can bring you back
It ain't the radio
Living to play, you know
Down on jazz street
