Letras de My Hometown

I was eight years old and runnin′ 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 home town
Your home town
This is your home town
This is your home town"

In '65, tension was runnin' high at my high school
There was lots of fights between blacks and whites
There was nothin′ 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
And troubled times had come
To my home town

My home town
My home town
My home town

Now Main Street′s whitewashed windows and vacant stores
Seem like there ain't nobody wants to come down here no more
They′re closin' down the textile mill ′cross the railroad tracks
The foreman says, "These jobs are goin', boys
And they ain′t comin' back
To your home town
Your home town
Your home town
Your home town"

Last night me and Kate laid in bed
Talkin' ′bout gettin′ out
Packin' up our bags and maybe headin′ south
I'm thirty-five, we got a Ford of our own now
Last night I said and looked behind the wheel and said
"Son, take a good look around
This is your home town"