In My Town - Ry Cooder

Up here on the hill it’s starting to rain

The sun’s disappearing through my windowpane

And everything’s still in my room

Then a trolley goes by with its clattering sound

Like a clock on the wall when the rain coming down

And somebody’s chattering way down the hall from my room

From my room, I see old town

Crook town, wop town, and spic town

Black town, shack town, and hick town, from my room

Looking down through the rain, I think the future’s going my way

And there’s a freeway coming soon right through this dirty old room

Can’t you see a 50-story building where a palm tree used to be?

Now I like a town that’s flat, I like a street that’s tame

You take out the trash, they all do the same

But get right back inside and remain until notified

In my town

I want a town that’s clean and I want a rule that’s maintained

If you’re brown, back down, if you’re black, get back

Better white than right, better dead than red

Better keep it contained in my town

Now, in my town, I’m the big cheese

Don’t like all those commie rats in the palm trees

Up there in Chavez Ravine

They come down here to City Hall

Creating a big scene, crying «foul ball»

We’ll put the head rat on the stand

«Are you now or have you ever been?»

Chief runs a make, director runs the names

I write the rules, I call the game

There’s the pitch, it’s good

There goes your old neighborhood

Tell the mayor duck out the back

Tell the monsignor keep the deal under his hat

Chavez Ravine plugged up, Bunker Hill ripped down

Cement mixers spreading the word around

This here is my town

It’s my town

Then the trolley stops by on its way down the hill

And somebody’s passing by my window sill

No shoes on the stairs and no knock at the door

Of my room, of my room, of my room

Why should I go down?

Why should I go down?