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
'Neath a holy stone they hide
They're breakin' beams and crosses
With a spastic's reelin' perfection
Nuns run bald through Vatican halls
pleadin' immaculate conception
From drinking unholy blood
And I said, "Hey, gunner man,
That's quicksand, that ain't mud
Have you thrown your senses to the war
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
The kids call him Jimmy the Saint
Well, that blaze- and- noise boy
He's gunnin' that bitch loaded
He rides head first into a hurricane
and disappears into a point
But some blood where the body fell
That is, nothin' left that
Just junk all across the horizon
Man, that ain't oil, that's blood"
I wonder what he was thinking
Eighth Avenue sailors in satin
shirts whisper in the air
She's puttin' on me the stare
Stands with his hand on his
you hear five quick shots
And now the whiz- bang gang
They're shootin' up the street
Oh, that cat from the Bronx
But he gets blown right off his feet
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 someone said, "Hey man,
His body hit the street with such
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 all just lost in the flood?
4.8
