(intro) A  D A   E   A E   D

      A                                  D    A     E
I was eight years old and running with a dime in my hand
                                        A   E   D
Into the bus stop to pick up a paper for my old man
    A                                            D       A             E
I'd sit on his lap in that big old Buick and steer as we drove through town
      E                                A     E    D
He'd tousle my hair and say son take a good look around
        A                       D   A   E                                     A    E   D   A
This is your hometown, this is your hometown, this is your hometown, this is your hometown

   A                               D     A       E
In `65 tension was running high at my high school
                                                                A          E      D
There was a lot of fights between the black and white there was nothing you could do
    A                                          D         A           E
Two cars at a light on a Saturday night in the back seat there was a gun
                       E                      A        E  D
Words were passed in a shotgun blast troubled times had come
    A           D  A   E                   A  E  D   A
To my hometown, my hometown, my hometown, my hometown

    F#m                                   A
Now Main Street's whitewashed windows and vacant stores
      F#m                                        A
Seems like there ain't nobody wants to come down here no more
        D                                   A
They're closing down the textile mill across the railroad tracks
        D                                       A            E
Foreman says these jobs are going boys and they ain't coming back to
A                 D     A   E                  A   E  D   A
Your hometown, your hometown, your hometown, your hometown

                                          D            A     E
Last night me and Kate we laid in bed talking about getting out
                          A   E   D
Packing up our bags maybe heading south
    A                           D   A   E
I'm thirty-five we got a boy of our own now
                                                             A    E    D
Last night I sat him up behind the wheel and said son take a good look around
        A               A   A   D A   E   E   E   A E   D   (repeat to fade)
This is your hometown