I want to tell you about my hometown
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It's a dusty old jewel in the South Puget Sound
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Well the factories churn and the timbers all cut down
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And life goes by slow in Tacoma
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People they laugh when they hear you're from my town
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They say it's a sour and used up all place
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I defended its honor, shrugged off the put downs
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You know that you're poor, from Tacoma
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Buildings are empty like ghettos or ghost-towns
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It gives me a chill to think what was inside
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I can't seem to fathom the dark of my history
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I invented my own in Tacoma
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There was nothing to put me in love with the good life
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I'm in league with the the gangs guns, and the crime
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There was no hollow promise that life would reward you
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There was nowhere to hide in Tacoma
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People who built it they loved it like I do
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There was hope in the trainyard of something inspired
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Once was I on it, but it's been painted shut
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I found passion for life in Tacoma
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Well I don't make it home much, I sadly neglect you
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But that's how you like it away from the world
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God bless California, make way for the Wal-Mart
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Thrice All American
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Neko Case |