Lost in the Flood Lyrics

Song	Lost in the Flood
Artist	Bruce Springsteen
Album	Greetings from Asbury Park, N.J.
Download	Image LRC TXT

	作词 : Springsteen
	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 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 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 he 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?

	zuo ci : Springsteen
	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 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, dulleyed and emptyfaced
	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 he 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 whizbang 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?

	zuò cí : Springsteen
	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 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, dulleyed and emptyfaced
	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 he 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 whizbang 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?

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