Jeffrey Foucault - In Our Own Country lyrics

Once we were happy In our own country As seen from above And not even very far This would all be a blur Just a storm hidden state On a weather man's Map of the world Down here though Everything peaks through A little drunk maybe The trees slurring their lines The houses look pretty The bison in the field By the highway don't know They are symbols They are animals Out in a pen Gathering snow Their wooly heads Bent down to frozen ground Behind them the rooftops of town Look peaceful You close your eyes Once we were happy In our own country As seen from above And not even very far This would all be a blur Just a storm hidden state On a weather man's Map of the world