My Hometown
Contact: Roger Wilson
Phone: 678-296-9850


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 (4x)

In '65 tension was running high
at my high school
There was a lot of fights
between 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 (4x)

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 (4x)

Last night me and Kate
Were lying bed
Talking about getting out
Packing up our bags
maybe head down 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