»I saw her standin’ on her front lawn
just a-twirlin’ her baton.
Me and her went for a ride, sir
and ten innocent people died.
From the town of Lincoln, Nebraska,
with a sawed-off .410 on my lap.
Through to the badlands of Wyoming
I killed everything in my path.
I can’t say that I’m sorry
for the things that we done.
At least for a little while, sir
me and her we had us some fun.
The jury brought in a guilty verdict
and the judge he sentenced me to death.
Midnight in a prison storeroom
leather straps across my chest.
Sheriff, when the man pulls that switch, sir,
and snaps my poor neck back
you make sure my pretty baby
is sittin’ right there on my lap.
They declared me unfit to live
said into that great void my soul be hurled.
They wanted to know why I did what I did
Sir, I guess there’s just a meanness in this world.«
I’ve always associated Terence Malick’s debut with the chilling title track of Springsteen’s »Nebraska« album, and now I learn that Bruce was indeed inspired by both the movie and the true tragedy behind it.
Lays bare the blank, frightening void inside us. In my bleakest book of no explanations.