Flag on the Can

hen I drink a Bud Light do I love America?

Or only when there's a flag on the can

And when I sit down and write a record

Can I be more than just another sad, white man?

I'm almost out of favors

But maybe there's a little love left in hand

If you let me sign the papers

And lay down mine to protect the branches

Let me die in Montana

In a bathing suit of all the good

To a coolness of "Hosanna"

Looking to the big, big, big sky

Once the cash in the backpacks and the slush funds is gone

And all the Brink's have gone home

Do you really think I could build a nation

And I hadn't ordered this on my own

There's better fortunes on the table

Learn a word of Chinese and check your phone

I'll call you when I'm able

Cause no respect to reception in

The congestions of As I drive into Montana

In a bathing suit of all the good

And a classic red bandana

Looking for the big, big, big sky

I find it hard to express myself in definite

When I'm trying to help I say

"Come on now, what is philosophy anyway, anyway?"

When I drink a Bud Light do I love America?

Or only when there's a flag on the can

And when I sit down and write a record

Can I be more than just a sad, sad, white man?

Who dreams of dying in Montana

In a bathing suit of all the good

With a belly full of manna

Underneath the big, big, big sky

That shines on Montana

If I tell it, too, of all the good

Don't you cry now, O Susanna

We're heading for the big, big, big sky