I want to tell you about my hometown Its a dusty old jewel in the South Puget Sound Where the factories churn and the timbers all cut down And life goes by slow in Tacoma People, they laugh when they hear youre from my town They say its a sour and used up ol place Ive defended its honor, I shrugged off the putdowns You know that youre poor, from Tacoma Buildings are empty like ghettos of ghosttowns It gives me a chill to think what was inside I cant seem to fathom the dark of my history I invented my own in Tacoma There was nothing to put me in love with the good life Im in league with the the gangs, and the guns, and the crime There was no hollow promise that life would reward you There was nowhere to hide in Tacoma People who built it, they loved it like I do There was hope in the trainyards that something inspired Once was I on it, but its been painted shut I found passion for life in Tacoma Well I dont make it home much, I sadly neglect you But thats how you like it, away from the world God bless California, make way for the WalMart I hope they dont find you, Tacoma
tacoma, putdowns, ghosttowns, trainyards, puget