Ritchie Sambora Made In America
(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.
