I was eight years old and running with
A dime in my hand into the busstop
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 (3x).

In '65 tension was running high at my highschool
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 (3x).

Now Main Street's white washed
Windows and vacant stores
Seems like there ain't nobody
Wants to come down here no more
They 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 (3x).

Last night me and Kate we laid in bed
Talking 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 a wheel
And said son take a good look around.

This is your hometown.