The house I live in,
a plot of earth, a street.
The grocer and the butcher and the people that I meet.
The children in the playground,
the faces that I see.
All races, all religions,
that's America to me.
The place I work in, the worker at my side.
The little town or city where my people lived
and died.
The howdy and the handshake,
the air of feeling free.
The right to speak my mind out,
that's America to me.
The things I see about me,
the big things and the small.
The little corner newsstand and the house of my old home.
The wedding and the churchyard,
the laughter and the tears.
The dream that's been a-growing for a hundred fifty years.
The town I live in,
the street,
the house,
the room.
The pavement of the city or a garden all in blue.
The church,
the school,
the clubhouse,
the million lights I see.
But especially the people, that's America to me.
The words of old Abe Lincoln,
of Jefferson and Paine,
of Washington and Jackson and the
tasks that still remain.
The little bridge at Concord where freedom's fight began.
A Gettysburg and Midway and the story of Baton.
The house I live in, the goodness everywhere.
A land of wealth and beauty with enough for all to share.
A house that we call freedom,
the home of liberty.
And a promise for tomorrow,
that's America to me.