Bruce Springsteen - Lost In The Flood
The ragamuffin 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 wolfmen 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 that holy 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 the 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 was gettin'
into or we they all lost in flood?
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 wolfmen 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 that holy 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 the 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 was gettin'
into or we they all lost in flood?
The ragamuffin 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 wolfmen 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 that holy 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 the 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 was gettin'
into or we they all lost in flood?
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 wolfmen 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 that holy 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 the 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 was gettin'
into or we they all lost in flood?
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Bruce Springsteen - Lost in the flood (lyrics in description)
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Lost in the Flood - Springsteen - MetLife#2 Aug 25, 2016
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MULTICAM HD-Lost in the flood-Bruce Springsteen BEST AUDIO Metlife stadium 2012 New Jersey-.flv
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Bruce Springsteen Live in NYC Lost in the flood
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Bruce Springsteen - Lost In The Flood (Hershey, PA 5/14/14) multicam mix
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