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?"
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