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 street’s 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 ain’t coming back to
Your hometown, your hometown, your hometown, your hometown

Last night me and kate we laid in bed talking about getting out
Packing up our bags maybe heading south
I’m thirty-five we got a boy of our own now
Last night I sat him up behind the wheel and said son take a good
Look around
This is your hometown


I was born right here on Randolph St. in Freehold
Here, right behind that big red maple in Freehold
Well, I went to school right here, got laid, and had my first beer in Freehold
Well, my folks both lived and worked right here in Freehold
I remember running up the street past the convent and church here in Freehold
Chased my daddy down in these bars, first fell in love with this guitar
here in Freehold

Well, I had my first kiss at the YMCA canteen on Friday night
Maria Espinosis tell me where are you tonight?
You were 13 but way ahead of your time, I walked home with a limp but I felt
fine that night in Freehold
Well, the girls at Freehold Regional they looked pretty fine
had my heart broke at least a half dozen times
I wonder if they miss me, if they still get the itch
if they’d dump me if they knew I’d strike it rich
straight out of Freehold

Well, Tex rest in peace, and Marion gave us kids a hand in Freehold
George and I started up a little rock and roll band in Freehold
Well, we learned pretty quick how to rock, I’ll never forget the feeling
of that first 5 bucks in my pocket that I earned in Freehold
I got outta here really hard and fast in Freehold
Everyone wanted to kick my ass back there in Freehold
Well, if you were different, black or brown
it was a bit of a red neck town back then in Freehold

Well, something broke my daddy’s back in Freehold
In ’69 he left and he never come back to Freehold
Said, once he drove to California, 3000 miles in 3 days
called my relatives some dirty names and drove straight out of Freehold
My sister had her first little baby at 17 in Freehold
Well, people they can be pretty mean
Honey, you had a rough road to go, but you ain’t made of nothin’ but soul
I love you more than you’ll ever know
We both survived Freehold

Well, my buddy Mike, he’s the mayor now in Freehold
I remember when we used to have a lot more hair in Freehold
Well, I left and swore I’d never walk these streets again, Jack
Tonight all I can say is, holy shit I’m back, back in Freehold
Well, this summer everything was green in Freehold
Rode my kids on the fire engine through the streets of Freehold
I showed ’em where daddy was born and raised, and first felt the sun on his
there in Freehold
I still got a lot of good friends right here in town
I can usually find me a free beer somewhere, with offers of free meals I am
Should I go crazy, blow all my money and ruin my life,
well at least I’ll never go hungry, I guess, here in Freehold

Well, I got a good Catholic education here in Freehold
Led to an awful lot of masturbation here in Freehold
Father, it was just something I did for a smile
Hell, I still get a good one off once in a while
and dedicate it to Freehold
Don’t get me wrong, I ain’t puttin’ nobody down
Hell, in the end it all just goes and comes around
It’s one hell of a town


Oddly enough — the above cover band, playing live on Main St. for the local San Gennaro/Antiques Fest ’05 — played no Springsteen at all. Note the NJ Devil’s iconography on the left.


The fabled Federici’s Pizza. I tell you what — I’ve been to Grimaldi’s, to Patsy’s, to Arturo’s and to Lombardi’s. They’re all great. But when you reach a plateau of excellence it gets hard to differentiate. I place Federici’s in that group. And, yes, it’s the same Federici family. (Scroll to the bottom of this link to see some Boss-on-‘za-action.)