My Hometown
Bruce Springsteen
A A D A E
E E A E D
AI was eight years old and running with a Ddime Ain my Ehand
EInto the bus stop to pick up a paper for Amy Eold Dman
AI'd sit on his lap in that big old Buick and Dsteer as we Adrove through Etown
EHe'd tousle my hair and he'd say son take a Agood Elook Daround
AThis is your hometown, this is Dyour Ahome Etown
EThis is your hometown, this is Ayour Ehome DtownA
AIn '65 tension was running high at Dmy Ahigh Eschool
EThere was a lot of fights between the black and white / there was Anothing Eyou could Ddo
Two Acars at a light on a Saturday night, in the Dback seat Athere was a Egun
EWords were passed, a shotgun blast / troubled Atimes Ehad Dcome
To Amy hometown, to Dmy Ahome Etown,
To Emy hometown, to Amy Ehome DtownA
Now F#mMain Street's whitewashed windows and Avacant stores
Seems F#mlike there ain't nobody wants to come Adown here no more
They're Dclosing down the textile mill Aacross the railroad tracks
Foreman Dsays these jobs are going boys and Athey ain't coming Eback
To Ayour hometown, Dyour Ahome Etown,
To Eyour hometown, to Ayour Ehome DtownA
ALast night me and Kate, we laid in bed Dtalking about Agetting Eout
EPacking up our bags, maybe AheaEding Dsouth
I'm Athirty-five, we got a boy of Dour Aown Enow
ELast night I sat him up behind the wheel and said Ason take a Egood look DaroundD
This is Ayour hometownDAE
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A A D A E
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