Jason Ringenburg - My Hometown
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I was eight years old and running with a dime in my hand
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Into the bus stop to pick up a paper for my old man
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I'd sit on his lap in that big old Buick and steer as we drove through town
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He'd tousle my hair and say son take a good look around
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This is your hometown This is your hometown
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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
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Now Main Street's whitewashed windows and vacant stores
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Seems like there ain't nobody wants to come down here no more
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They're closing down the textile mill across the railroad tracks
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Foreman says these jobs are going boys and they ain't coming back
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To your hometown Your hometown
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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 Your hometown
Your hometown Your hometown
Your hometown Your hometown
Your hometown Your hometown
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