The Day I Woke Up as Bruce Springsteen

from Deeply Flawed

I woke up grey and groggy out on hangover beach
I was looking for my Sandy but she was just out of my suicide reach
The ferris wheel rose up like a serpent in the summer sun sand
And I was begging for a piece of your spanish mercy or at least your velvet hand
Well a cold fire came over my girded loins
I played pinball on the pier till i had 10 billion points
I went to the boardwalk and bought you a corndog
And cried cause I lost my beach tag

CHORUS
That was the day I woke up as Bruce Springsteen
To me it was a nightmare but to others it would've been a wet dream
I kissed the big man full on the lips
When I saw that tambourine smack his hips
I had a 4 hour concert to put on, but, I was exhausted and I had a four hour concert to put on, all i was wearing was my boots and my jeans
The day I woke up as Bruce Springsteen

I said this is no place for a nice girl from Absecon
You said your parents rent a place down here almost every weekend
Your jeans were a little too tight and your hair was a little too high and wild
You were my counter-culture-countess, I was your rock'n'roll man-child
Under the boardwalk you said that your name was Sandy
As I kissed you I could still taste the cotton candy
Don't be a cold fish, C'mon I'll win you a goldfish
Or will go out to the south drag

CHORUS

Sandy baby strap yourself into my steel embrace
There's some hungry homicide heroes grinding gears for a testosterone race
The whole town's lights turn green and glow off the hood of my '67 chevy
Rubber burns and my heart yearns to hear you singin she's so heavy
My arms around you were slammed back in our seats
It's the end of the summer but my engine overheats
This is our chance Sandy to make our island escape
Do the death dance with me and we'll go of to the cape
You look and me and whisper how your heart aches
You look at me and smile and say don't hit the brakes
The flesh burns off our souls as we fly away to heaven
Through the storefront window of a 7-11
They'll bury us in drapes and toe tags

CHORUS

I ain't peaches, I ain't cream
I ain't Mr. Springsteen
I ain't whiskey, I ain't wine
I ain't Mr. Springstein