Jeffrey Foucault Americans In Corduroys
We pushed back at JFK
And watched our country fall away
Two lovers chasing hours into the dark
Who blacked their boots
And locked the doors
And now for richer and for poorer
Go vagabond and wild as a spark
It was a civilized affair
You wore flowers in your hair
And your Mother’s dress
So white against your skin
The stars of pale blue
Above the morning found a new
And nameless country
Where no one had ever been
We raced the valleys down
Through the sleepy little towns
As blind as any traveler you could meet
They took us as we came
No one even asked our names
Two Americans in corduroys
Kissing in the middle of the street
Back home behind closed doors
Where the bread and circus roars
They turn the volume up
And pull the shade
But on the cobbles in the square
People laugh and smoke and stare
And no one looks to me like they’re afraid
At home the trees are turning
Red and gold the leaves are burning
Ruined apples fall
Too heavy and too sweet
But right here the birds are calling
The early stars are falling
For Americans in corduroys
Kissing in the middle of the street
Trading evening for midday
We touched down at JFK
And our country rose to meet us in the air
With all its beauty and its lust
Its diamond teeth and heart of dust
That beats inside us
Though we travel anywhere
