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)