Somewhere In America There's A Street

At night only crickets

No prowlers, no sirens

No pinky ring hustlers

No angel dust Byrons

No bars on the windows

No sabre-toothed neighbors

Just good simple folk

In a rainbow of flavors



Somewhere in America

There's a street named after my dad

And the home we never had



I'll work for Mr. Fowler

Making fifty cents an hour

And I'll save what I can



So I can get a piece of land

I'll raise some cows and carrots

Get ahead on my own merits

And if I fall I'll take it like a man



Somewhere in America

There's a street named after my dad

And the home we never had



No more bland TV dinners

No ten car collisions

No showbiz beginners

Making global decisions

No daycare Fellinis

No fast food assassins

No billboard bikinis

Just truth and compassion



Somewhere in America

There's a street named after my dad

And the home we never had

The home we never had somewhere in America