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