In Our Own Country Songtext
von Jeffrey Foucault

Once we were happy
In our own country
As seen from above
And not even very far
This would all be a blur
Just a storm hidden state
On a weather man′s
Map of the world


Down here though
Everything peaks through
A little drunk maybe
The trees slurring their lines
The houses look pretty
The bison in the field
By the highway don't know
They are symbols

They are animals
Out in a pen
Gathering snow
Their wooly heads
Bent down to frozen ground
Behind them the rooftops of town
Look peaceful
You close your eyes


Once we were happy
In our own country
As seen from above
And not even very far
This would all be a blur
Just a storm hidden state
On a weather man′s
Map of the world