Inside my house we had forgotten now Inside my house we had forgotten how To live in the country with three white stones Surrounding a flag of branches and bones Of mirrors of contracts and signed armored clad Of the ways we play circus to hide what we had
They won’t tell me what I am to be an American I’m here but my hearts at sea, oh they won’t speak for me
And someone spoke too soon they got caught again And the kids they lost their breath in the revolution They settled for houses and for small kids To tell them the stories of when they were young The warriors they thought they’d become Now hide in the surface like the roots from the sun
They won’t tell me what I am to be an American I’m here but my hearts at sea, oh they won’t speak for me
I will stay up late and dig my own trench I’ll ask all the questions they never present And it’s sick and its vain and it’s hard to explain To question the role or the play of the game Not for your founding father or for the new born threat Not for your radical breach that you tend to forget Not for your good mother or the weight of her debt Not for your children at sea, but your own way to
Tell what you are to be an American I can’t live by your words and remain the person which I came They wont tell me what I am to be an American I’m here but I’m loosing my cool, no I won’t wait for you.