Bruce Springsteen - Death to My Hometown Lyrics

Death to My Hometown Lyrics by Bruce SpringsteenI was eight years old and running with a dime in my handInto the bus stop to pick up a paper for my old manI’d sit on his lap in that big old Buick and steer as we drove through townHe’d tousle my hair and say son take a good look around this is yourhometownThis is your hometownThis is your hometownThis is your hometownIn `65 tension was running