i got the tunes in my pocket
|
in an old ass walkman
|
walking to the beach
|
with a bottle of black and tan
|
keys in the velcro
|
where it always should be
|
times tickin' by but it doesn't concern me
|
i'm killin' time with nothing to do
|
that's all i seem to think about or do
|
my soul is sound
|
when i'm in my hometown
|
no place i'd rather be
|
|
my town, my street
|
gives me peace of mind
|
that can't be beat
|
|
i can sleep all night
|
to the sound of the ocean
|
wake up in the morning
|
and i do it all again
|
seven days a week
|
i pay no attention
|
i spend alot of time
|
with my record collection
|
|
i heard the sound of a skateboard
|
rolling down my backstreet
|
reggae music coming
|
from the neighbor across from me
|
as time ticks by
|
i never stop to ask, i never wonder why
|
my soul is sound
|
when i'm in my hometown
|
no place i'd rather be
|
|
-----------------
|
My Town
|
| Buck-O-Nine |
