My Hometown 
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 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.
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 Saturday night,
in the back seat there was a gun,
Words were passed,
a shotgun blast,
Troubled times had come, to my
hometown.
My hometown.
My hometown.
My hometown.
Now Main Street's whitewashed 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 35, we got a boy of our own now,
I'm 35, 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.
Springsteen, Bruce. "My Hometown"Born in the U.S.A.
Columbia Records