North of Wilmington is where I'm from.
Atlantic Ocean and coastal sand,
Concord Mall and green farmland,
credit cards and parish halls,
some who stay; others move on.

There's a sign when you enter my city.
It's kinda chipped - it ain't that pretty.
But it told me I could be somebody, so I did.

Learned ‘bout the world in Catholic school.
The opposites, they dwelled there too.
A praise of love and the Golden Rule.
Averted eyes, closed ears, turned backs
spat venom to grease the tracks.

There's a sign when you enter my city.
It's kinda chipped - it ain't that pretty.
But it told me I could be somebody, so I did.

I left home for New York state.
Chuck Taylors and purple gowns,
unlicensed radio sounds.
Perry Hall and studying,
Self-Reliance, Waverly.
Mountain Day, Pam and Jim,
17 East and Instruments.

There's a sign when you enter my city.
It's kinda chipped - it ain't that pretty.
But it told me I could be somebody, so I did.

Two years to serve in New Hampshire.
Stone Church, Hampton Beach,
red jackets and leafless trees.
The mayor's friends and eighth graders,
Portsmouth coast to Manchester.
Fundraising and Seabrook kids,
bitter cold and idealists.

There's a sign when you enter my city.
It's kinda chipped - it ain't that pretty.
But it told me I could be somebody, so I did.

Sitting at a desk in Massachusetts,
I can't predict what's coming next.
But I do know that I will be someone,
someone,
somebody.