Where I come from It's a land of many islands Two rivers run to the east and to the west Wanted to run far away as I could as fast as I could get No matter where I've been Can't escape who I am or forget
Where I come from Paint is peeling all the time Winter's long, gets into your boots The river runs high and wild High and wild in the springtime Stories come through our faded little town When the sun shines
Veterans The veterans of all the past wars Sit outside on a Sunday afternoon The mills closed down long ago So we're way past unemployment A good bad joke somebody told on our town For their enjoyment
The September sun Colors boldly flying Pretty reds, orange, gold, and brown Most beautiful as the light is dying Most beautiful as the day goes downTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
