My Hometown
Bruce 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  he'd say son take a good look around
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This is your hometown - this your home town
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This is your hometown - this is your home town
 
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In sixty five, tension was running high at my high school
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There was a lot of fights between black and white - there was nothing you could do
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Two cars at a light on a Saturday night in the back seat was a gun
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Words were passed - a shotgun blast - troubled times had come  
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To my hometown – to my hometown
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My hometown – to my hometown
 
BRIDGE
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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
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Your hometown – to your hometown
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Your hometown – to your hometown

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Last night me and Kate we laid in bed 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

