Guitar 1: Keyboards arranged for Guitar
Guitar 2: Rythm Guitar
Guitar 3: Solo during the bridge...

Words:
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 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 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 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