Thrice All American

G C i want to tell you about my hometown G D it’s a dusty old jewel in the south puget sound G C well the factories churn and the timbers all cut down G D G and life goes by slow in tacoma * repeat for all verses * strumming picks up for middle verses and slows down again for last Verse people they laugh when they hear you’re from my town they say it’s a sour and used up all place i defended its honor , shrugged off the put downs you know that you’re poor , from tacoma buildings are empty like ghettos or 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 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 trainyard 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