The ragamuffiin gunner is returnin' home like a hungry runaway
|
He walks through town all alone
|
He must be from the fort he hears the high school girls say
|
His countryside's burnin' with wolfman fairies dressed in drag for homicide
|
The hit and run, plead sanctuary, 'neath a holy stone they hide
|
They're breakin' beams and crosses with a spastic's reelin' perfection
|
nuns run bald through Vatican halls pregnant, pleadin' immaculate conception
|
And everybody's wrecked on Main Street from drinking unholy blood
|
Sticker smiles sweet as gunner breathes deep, his ankles caked in mud
|
And I said, "Hey, gunner man, that's quicksand, that's quicksand that ain't mud
|
Have you thrown your senses to the war or did you lose them in the flood ?"
|
|
That pure American brother, dull-eyed and empty-faced
|
races Sundays in Jersey in a Chevy stock super eight
|
He rides 'er low on the hip, on the side he's got Bound For Glory in red, white and blue flash paint.
|
He leans on the hood telling racing stories, the kids call him Jimmy The Saint
|
Well that blaze and noise boy, he's gunnin' that bitch loaded to blastin' point
|
He rides head first into a hurricane and disappears into a point
|
And there's nothin' left but some blood where the body fell
|
That is, nothin' left that you could sell
|
just junk all across the horizon, a real highwayman's farewell
|
And I said "Hey kid, you think that's oil ? Man, that ain't oil that's blood."
|
I wonder what he was thinking when he hit that storm
|
or was he just lost in the flood ?
|
Eighth Avenue sailors in satin shirts whisper in the air
|
Some storefront incarnation of Maria, she's puttin' on me the stare
|
and Bronx's best apostle stands with his hand on his own hardware
|
Everything stops, you hear five, quick shots, the cops come up for air
|
And now the whiz-bang gang from uptown, they're shootin' up the street
|
And that cat from the Bronx starts lettin' loose
|
but he gets blown right off his feet
|
And some kid comes blastin' round the corner but a cop puts him right away
|
He lays on the street holding his leg screaming something in Spanish
|
still breathing when I walked away
|
And somebody said, "Hey man, did you see that ? His body hit the street with such a beautiful thud."
|
I wonder what the dude was sayin' or was he just lost in the flood ?
|
Hey man, did you see that, those poor cats are sure messed up
|
I wonder what they were gettin' into, or were they just lost in the flood ?
|
|
-----------------
|
Lost In The Flood
|
| Bruce Springsteen |