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 down