baby we were born to run Oh honey, tramps like us baby we were born to run Come on with me, tramps like us baby we were born to run Ru-uh-uh-un
kill the yellow man Born in the U.S.A. I was born in the U.S.A. I was born in the U.S.A. I was born in the U.S.A. Born in the U.S.A. Come back home to
Hey little girl is your daddy home? Did he go away and leave you all alone? I got a bad desire I'm on fire Tell me now baby is he good to you? Can
Driving in to Darlington County Me and Wayne on the Fourth of July Driving in to Darlington County Looking for some work on the county line We drove
Well, I came to your house the other day Your mother said you went away She said there was nothing that I could have done There was nothing nobody
The times are tough now, just getting tougher This old world is rough, it's just getting rougher Cover me, come on baby, cover me Well I'm looking
I had a job, I had a girl I had something going, mister, in this world I got laid off down at the lumber yard Our love went bad, times got hard Now
Friday night's pay night, guys fresh out of work Talking about the weekend, scrubbing off the dirt Some heading home to their families, some looking
We sit in the car outside your house I can feel the heat coming 'round I go to put my arm around you and you give me a look like I'm way out of bounds
Well, we bursted out of class Had to get away from those fools We learned more from a 3-minute record, baby Than we ever learned in school Tonight
Hey, Eddie, can you lend me a few bucks And tonight can you get us a ride Gotta make it through the tunnel Got a meeting with a man on the other side
One soft infested summer Me and Terry became friends Trying in vain to breathe The fire we born in Catching rides to the outskirts Tying faith between
With her killer graces And her secret places That no boy can fill With her hands on her hips Oh and that smile on her lips Because she knows that it kills
And the screen door slams, Mary's dress sways Like a vision she dances, across the porch As the radio plays, Roy Orbison singing for the lonely Hey that
The ragamuffin gunner is returnin' home like a hungry runaway He walks through town all alone--"He must be from the fort," he hears the high school girls
Sparks fly on E Street when the boy- prophets walk it, handsome and hot All the little girls' souls grow weak when the man-child gives them a double
Catlong sighs, holdin' Kitty's black tooth She left to marry some top cat, ain't it the cold truth? And there hasn't been a tally since Sally left the
The rangers had a homecoming in Harlem, late last night And the magic rat drove his sleek machine, over Jersey state line Barefoot girl, sitting on the
