Thrice All American

Lyrics for Thrice All American

I want to tell you about my hometown It's a dusty old jewel in the South Puget Sound Where the factories churn and the timber's all cut down And life goes by slow in Tacoma People they laugh when they hear you're from my town They say it's a sour and used up ol' place I've defended its honor, shrugged off the put-downs You know that you're poor, from Tacoma Buildings are empty like ghettos of ghost-towns It gives me a chill to think what was inside I can't 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 I'm 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 of something inspired Once was I on it, but it's been painted shut I found passion for life in Tacoma Well I don't make it home much, I sadly neglect you But that's how you like it away from the world God bless California, make way for the Wal-Mart I hope they don't find you Tacoma