Lost in the Flood Bruce Springsteen
Lost in the flood by Bruce Springsteen
[Em] [D]
The ra[C]gamuffin gunner is ret[D]urning home like a h[G]ungry runaw[Bm]ay
He w[C]alks through town a[D]ll alone " He must be from the [G]fort",
he hears the high school girls [Bm]say
His [D]countryside's burning with [C]wolfman fairies dressed in [Em]drag for homi[Bm]cide
They [C]hit and run plead s[D]anctuary,'neath a [G]holy stone they [Bm]hide
They're [C]breakin' beams and [D]crosses with a [G]spastic's reelin' per[Bm]fection
[C]Nuns run bald though Va[D]tican halls, pregnant,[G]pleadin' immaculate con[Bm]ception
And [D]everybody's wrecked on [C]Main street from [Em]drinking unholy [Bm]blood
[C]Sticker smiles sweet as G[D]unner breathes deep, his [C]ankles [D]caked in [Em]mud
And I said, " [C]Hey gunner [D]man, that's [Em]quicksand, that's [C]quicksand, [D]that ain't
[Em]mud. Have you [C]thrown your [D]senses [Em]to the war, or did you [C]lose them [D]in the
floo[Em]d?"[Am] [D]
That [C]pure American [D]brother, dull-[G]eyed and empty-f[Bm]aced
[C]Races Sundays in [D]Jersey, in a [G]Chevy stock super [Bm]eight
He rides 'er [D]low on the hip, on the side he's got[C] "Bound for Glory"
in [Em]red white and blue flash [Bm]paint
He l[C]eans on the hood telling [D]racing stories, the [C]kids call him [D]Jimmy the
[Em]Saint
Well that [Em]blaze and noise boy, he's [G]gunnin' that bitch [C]loaded to blastin'
[Em]point. He [Em]rides headfirst into a h[G]urricane and dissa[C]pears into a p[Em]oint
And there's [D]nothin' left but some blood where the [C]body fell,
that is, [Em]nothin' left that you could [Bm]sell
Just j[C]unk all across the [D]horizon, a real h[C]ighway[D]man's farew[Em]ell
And I said, "[C]Hey kid, you [D]think that's o[Em]il? Man [C]that ain't [D]oil, that's [Em]blood
I w[C]onder what he was [D]thinking when he h[Em]it that storm, or [C]was he just
l[D]ost in the flo[Em]od?[Am]"[D] [D] [Am] [Em]
Eighth [C]Avenue sailors in [D]satin shirts [G]whisper in the [Bm]air
Some [C]storefront incarn[D]ation of Maria, she's [G]puttin' on me the s[Bm]tare
And B[D]ronx's best a[C]postle stands with his [Em]hand on his own hard[Bm]ware
E[C]verything stops, you hear [D]five quick shots, the [C]cops come [D]up for [Em]air
And now the [Em]whiz-bang gang from [G]uptown, they're [C]shootin' up the [Em]street
And that [Em]cat from the Bronx starts [G]lettin' loose, but he gets [C]blown right
off his [Em]feet.
And some [D]kid comes blastin' round the [C]corner, but a [Em]cop puts him right a[Bm]way
He l[C]ays on the street holding his [D]leg, screaming something is Spanish
still b[C]reathin' when [D]I walked aw[Em]ay
And someone said, "[C]Hey man, d[D]id you see t[Em]hat? His body hit the [C]street
with such a [D]beautiful t[Em]hud"
I w[C]onder what the [D]dude was s[Em]ayin' or [C]was he just [D]lost in the [Em]flood?
H[C]ey man [D]did you s[Em]ee that? Those [C]poor cats are s[D]ure messed u[Em]p
I [C]wonder what [D]they were gettin' [Em]into, or w[C]ere they all just [D]lost
Em Am D D Am Em / Em Am D D Am Em /(repeat to end )
in the flood?
(very cool tune for solo acoustic)
the song gives me chills everytime I hear it!
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