Live 01 Sep 1978 version
[Spoken:] How many of you guys heard us when we were on the radio? (cheers) We're gonna do some different stuff tonight, I don't want to do the same stuff. Alright, alright. But we're gonna do it for you. Alright. Let's do it. You gotta give me some lights over here. This is a song off the first album...and I don't remember the words for this one, and, uh... (chuckles) Uh, let's see, it's in that key, let's, uh, yeah, uh... This, uh, we haven't done this song, what, we did it a few times recently, but we haven't done it in about four or so years. It's got some good lines, it's got some bad lines, but...
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
The countryside's burnin' with wolfmen fairies dressed in drag for homicide
They hit and run, plead sanctuary, 'neath the holy stone they hide
They're breakin' beams and crosses with a spastic's reelin' perfection
Yeah, 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 wars or did you lose them in the flood?"
That pure American brother, dull-eyed and empty-faced
He races Sundays in Jersey in a Chevy stock super eight
He rides her 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 racin' stories, the kids call him Jimmy The Saint
Well now blaze and noise boy, he's gunnin' that bitch loaded to blastin' point
He rides headfirst into a hurricane, and disappears into a point
Till 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
Well, that whiz-bang gang from uptown, they're shootin' up the street
That cat from the Bronx, he starts lettin' loose, but gets blown right off his feet
Some kid comes blastin' down 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 that dude was sayin', or was he just lost in the flood?
Someone said, "Hey man, did you see that? Those poor cats, they're sure messed up"
I wonder what they were gettin' into, or were they just lost in the flood?
And 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
The above lyrics are for the live 01 Sep 1978 performance of LOST IN THE FLOOD at Masonic Temple Theatre in Detroit, MI, during the Darkness On The Edge Of Town Tour. The song was played in a solo piano arrangement.
Thanks Jake (ol'catfishinthelake at BTX and Greasy Lake) for the lyrics help.
List of available versions of LOST IN THE FLOOD on this website:
LOST IN THE FLOOD [Album version]