B
R
U
C
E

S
P
R
I
N
G
S
T
E
E
N

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

Now Main Street's whitewashed windows andvacant stores
Seems like there ain't nobody wants to come down here no more
They're closing down the textile mill  across the railroad tracks
Foreman says, 'These jobs are going, boys
And they ain't coming back to your hometown'
Your hometown
Your hometown
Your hometown

Last night, me and Kate, we laid in bed taliking about getting out
Packing up our bags, maybe heading south
I'm 35, we got a boy of our own now
Last night I sat him up behind the wheel and said
'Son, take a good look around
This is your hometown'

©1984 Bruce Springsteen