The Dude is now obsessed with Bruce Springsteen. He discovered the only CD I own, Born to Run, one day and plays it all the time – very loudly! – while we drive around town. Every morning on the way to school he slips in the disc, calls up track 5, Born to Run, and selects Repeat so we can listen to it about 2 ½ times on the way to school.
Dude: “Does he really write all the lyrics? He’s good.”
Dude: “Do you think he really wanted to die with Wendy on the street that night in a never-ending kiss? Or does that just mean that when he dies he hopes to spend eternity with Wendy?”
Lots of talk about why young people seem to hate their hometowns and want to move out – brought on by such lines as,
“Baby this town rips the bones from your back
It’s a death trap, a suicide rap
We gotta get out while we’re young
‘cause tramps like us, baby we were born to run.