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 the 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 sixty five tension was running high at my high school
There was lots of fights between the black and white
There was nothing you could do
Two cars at a light on a Saturday night
In a back seat there was a gun
Words were passed in a shotgun blast
Troubled times had come to my hometown to my hometown to my hometown to my hometown
Now main street's white washed 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 comin' back to your hometown to my hometown to my hometown to my hometown
Last night me and
Kate we laid in bed talking 'bout 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
This is your hometown