This is your hometown My hometown Your hometown 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

I had a job, I had a girl I had something going, mister, in this world I got laid off down at the lumber yard Our love went bad, times got hard Now I work down at the car wash Where all it ever does is rain Don't you feel like you're a rider on a

And a little of that human touch Share a little of that human touch Feel a little of that human touch Just a little of that human touch Do you think what I'm askin's too much You and me we were the pretenders We let it all slip away In the end what you

These are better days baby Better days are shining through Better days with a girl like you There's better days shining through Are better days it's true Well my soul checked out missing as I sat listening To the hours and minutes tickin' away Yeah just

There's a place out on the edge of town, sir Rising above the factories and the fields Now ever since I 'as a child I can remember That mansion on the hill In the day you can see the children playing On the road that leads to those gates of hardened

Adam raised a Cain (yeah) Oh oh, oh oh oh oh Oh oh, oh oh oh oh (hey) In the summer that I was baptized My father held me to his side As they put me into the water He said how on that day I cried We were prisoners of love, a love in chains He was

Searching to the dark all goes on This moment shackled and drawn Shackled and dawn shackled and drawn Bring on the lights bits to the shape Closer to the grave closer to the gave There comes the dawn I am over this moment I was on a field spread on the

This is what will be This is what will be (This is what will be) I got a coin in your palm I can make it disappear I got a card up my sleeve Name it and I'll pull it out your ear I got a rabbit in the hat If you wanna come and see I got shackles on my

It ain't no secret (it ain't no secret) 41 shots (you can get killed just for living in) No secret my friend You can get killed just for living in your American skin Is it a gun (is it a gun), is it a knife (is it a knife) 41 shots, and we'll take that

On the streets of Philadelphia I was bruised and battered, I couldn't tell what I felt I was unrecognizable to myself Saw my reflection in a window and didn't know my own face Oh brother are you gonna leave me wastin' away I walked the avenue, 'til my