Bruce Springsteen

In the summer that I was baptized,
My father held me to his side,
As they put me to the water,
He said how on that day I cried.
We were prisoners of love, a love in chains,
He was standin in the door, I was standin in the rain,
with the same hot blood burning in our veins,
Adam raised a Cain.
All of the old faces,
Ask you why youre back,
They fit you with position,
And the keys to your daddys Cadillac,
In the darkness of your room,
Your mother calls you by your true name,
You remember the faces, the places, the names,