American Skies

Nebraska morning shines
Reflecting frayed and weathered lines
Of a man in his fields of gold
Thirsty season, barren land
Left him dry and empty handed
Withered waves of grain drift on by
Under American skies


Their blood runs colors that are deep and true
There’s more to pride than what you say, it’s what you do
Fight it out for every single breath
Leave the stones in the stream lest we forget
Oh say can you see the dawn’s early light
Under American skies


The pantry’s shelves half bare
Cause there’s too many bills sitting there
It gets old, just getting by
Wants to give his kids a better life
Sweating blood just to survive
He’s hanging on to his piece of the pie
Under American skies