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
'tween the black and 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 hometown
My hometown
My hometown
My hometown
Now Main Street's whitewashed windows
and vacant stores
Seems like there ain't nobody
wants to come down here no more
They're closing down the te tile 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
talking about getting out
Packing up our bags maybe heading south
I'm thirty five
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
