America

A young man on the bank of a river What young man, what river you might ask Any young man, any river I'd reply And he's throwing little stones into the river And on the other bank of the river A presidential candidate approaches With his reception committee What presidential candidate, you could ask Just about any candidate I'd say As long as he recognizes him from tv The thing is, all at once there is just a little stone Between this young man and the next in line president Neither lightyears of wire, nor wireless waves No fundraising, no direct mail, except for this little stone America, America, America America, America, America I will be there to stand for fair America Listen, listen, this young man, he suddenly feels very How can I put this, right, unmanipulated And it doesn't really matter if he finally throws the stone Or maybe he's carrying a gun Or maybe his arm is long enough to except the handshake Or maybe, maybe the river opens, just to walk across You know in fairytales these things are imaginable! America, America, America America, America, America I will be there to stand for fair America One day it happens in your neighbourhood Down in good fairyland One day all distance may show to be bridgeable America, America, America America, America, America I will be there to stand for good and fair America America, America, America America, America, America I will be there to stand for fair America America, America, America America, America, America I will be there to stand for fair America