(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.