(R.Sambora & R.Supa)



Made in America, nineteen fifty nine,

Born down by the factories, cross the Jersey City line.

Raised on radio, just a jukebox kid,

I was alright.

Just a small town homeboy, with big dreams,

Following his conscience, in a world full of extremes.

Fresh outta high school, only seventeen,

I was alright.

Blinded by my vision, there was just no turning back,

Like a runaway train, life was steaming down the track.

You'd say I'd never made it out, but I kept on hanging on,

Every night I prayed to Jesus, and held my head up strong.

I was alright, I landed on my feet,

Made in America, I was brought up on the street.

My old man's independence, seemed good enough for me,

I was made in America, made in America.

Never cared much about politics,'til I was twenty one,

But I woke up when Lennon, found the wrong end of a gun.

He left his inspiration, before he said goodbye,

And we were alright.

We all lose our innocence, it's impossible to hold,

I didn't know it then, I had a pocket full of gold.

When I kissed those younger days goodbye, it almost broke my heart,

I was going through my growing pains, I was driving in the dark.

But I was alright, I landed on my feet,

Made in America, I was brought up on the street.

I'm facing up to freedom, and chasing down my dream,

I was made in America, yeah I was made in America.

Yeah we all lose our innocence, it's impossible to hold,

I just didn't know it then, I had a pocket full of gold.

When they said I'd never make it, I just kept hanging on,

And every night I prayed to Jesus, and I held my head up strong.

And I was alright, I landed on my feet,

Made in America, I was brought up on the street.

Facing up to who I am, chasing down my dream,

I was made in America, yeah I was made in America.

Made in America.