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a 7 minute epic song by bruce springsteen and the e-street band. it is from his first alb-m, greetings from asbury park, in 1973.
the first verse is about a vietnam veteran who returns home and doesnt believe in religion anymore. the 2nd verse is about a street racer who dies in a crash.
the last verse is about gang violence.
much better in concert.
one of the most epic songs by the boss, and the only song of his that includes the ‘f’ and ‘b’ words.
“the ragam-ffin 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 qucksand, 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 b-tch 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 f-cked up

i wonder what they were gettin’ into, or were they just lost in the flood?”
im listening to lost in the flood live nyc ’99 so loud that i am seeing stars