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MY HOMETOWN Bruce Springsteen 1983 Bruce Springsteen I was eight years old and runnin' with a dime in my hand Into the bus stop to pick up a paper for my old man I'd sit on his lap in that big old Buick and steer as we drove through town He'd tousle my hair, say son take a good look around This is your hometown, this is your hometown This is your hometown, this is your hometown. In `65 tension was runnin' high at my high school There was a lot of fights between the black and white There was nothin' you could do Two cars at a light on a Saturday night in the back seat there was a gun Words were passed, a shotgun blast Troubled times had come to my hometown My hometown, my hometown, my hometown. Now main streets whitewashed windows and vacant stores Seems like there ain't nobody wants to come down here no more They're closin' down the textile mill 'cross the railroad tracks Foreman says these jobs are goin' boys and they ain't comin' back to Your hometown, your hometown Your hometown, your hometown. Last night me and Kate we laid in bed talkin' about gettin' out Packing'up our bags maybe headin' south I'm thirty-five, we got a boy of our own now Last night I sat him up behind the wheel, said son take a good look around This is your hometown. (Transcribed by David Story - July 2013)


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