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Thick American Skin

Ryan Montbleau

The colors of my country
The colors of a bruise
With fifty stars to signify that no one's born to lose

And the gifts that we are given come bestowed by tired hands
Tied to no known race, religion, nor native of this land
And I am falling into a freedom trail

High as any mountain range as yet unknown
And I am falling into a freedom cheer
Celebrating all the many things that I hold dear
I celebrate this freedom
And I celebrate my home

And I celebrate this fenced in land that we are standing on
Meanwhile the fate of all the world is knocking at the door
And we say, “This is private property, don't come ‘round here no more.”
And we are falling into a freedom trail

Deep as any goldmine as yet unshown
And we are falling into a freedom fear
Afraid of losing all the many things that we hold dear
And the colors of this country
The colors of a bruise

With fifty stars to signify that we weren't born to lose
And the fight that we are fighting I fear will help no future day
And only hinder lady liberty wandering on her way

The fight that we are fighting I know will help no future day
And only hinder all of us as we wander on our way
May we please not hinder lady liberty wandering on her way.






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