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
That big old black 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
My hometown
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 coming back
To your hometown
Your hometown
Your hometown
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