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作词 : Springsteen |
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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 pick 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 say son take a good look around this is your hometown |
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This is your hometown |
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This is your hometown |
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This is your hometown |
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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 there was a gun |
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Words were passed in a shotgun blast |
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Troubled times had come to my hometown |
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My hometown |
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My hometown |
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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 your hometown |
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Your hometown |
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Your hometown |
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Your hometown |
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Last night me and Kate we laid in bed |
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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 |
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