MY HOMETOWN by Bruce Springsteen [1986]

I was eight years old and

Running with a dime in my hand

To 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 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

To my hometown, to 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 textile mill

Across the railroad tracks

Foreman says these jobs are going, boys

And they ain't coming back

To your hometown, to your hometown

To your hometown, to 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

Written by Bruce Springsteen.