My Hometown

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I was eight years old and running with a dime in my hand
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Into the bus stop to picks up a paper for my old man
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I'd sit on his lap in that  big old Buick and steer as we drove through town
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He'd tousle my hair and  he d say son take a good look around
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This is your hometown, this is your home town
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This is your hometown, your hometown, this is your home town

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In 65   tension was running high at my high school
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There was a lot of fights between the black and white
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There was nothing you could do
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Two cars at a light on a Saturday night in the back seat was a gun
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Words were passed  a    shotgun blast
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Troubled times had come  to my hometown
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My hometown, my   hometown, my   hometown, my hometown

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Now Main Street's whitewashed windows and vacant stores
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Seems like there ain't nobody wants to come down here no more
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They're closing down the textile mill across the railroad tracks
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Foreman says these jobs are going boys and they ain't coming back to

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Your hometown, your hometown, your hometown, your hometown, your hometown
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your hometown

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Last night me and Kate we laid in bed talking about getting out
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Packing up  our   bags  maybe heading south
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I'm thirty-five we got a boy of our own now
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Last night I sat him up behind the wheel and said son take a good look around
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This is your hometown