“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 streets 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 aint coming back to your hometown”
“your hometown, your hometown, your hometown“
memphis tennessee – my home town -
peace
sigh, is there anywhere beautiful you don’t get to document!? so amazing!
i don’t know, i’m sure there’s something out there yet to be found for me to marvel at as well – i hope so anyway – thanks for your words, they’re much appreciated.