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When you're from Boston
You join an Irish gang
You're surely Roman Catholic
You eat chowder every day
You park your car at Harvard Yard
You'll be buried at Fenway
Is this the life you expect to hear me say?
When you're from Boston
My father works down at the docks
All my brothers are Charlestown cops
Mother works up at the factory
The Garden is my second home
The Cape is the only beach I know
And we all hate Neil
But we love Sweet Caroline
Movies and TV will show you
Everything you think you know
About the place that's deep inside of me
When you're from Boston
You join an Irish gang
You're surely Roman Catholic
You eat chowder every day
You park your car at Harvard Yard
You'll be buried at Fenway
Is this the life you expect to hear me say?
When you're from Boston
I must admit we sound a bit
Like a cartoon version of ourselves to you
And I must admit we seem a bit
Like the weather owns our cold hard attitude
And I must admit this part is true
We are strong and we are proud
We are honest we are loud
And we'll still say Cheers to you
When nobody knows your name
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