My Country

Let's go back to yesterday

When a phone call cost a dime

In New Orleans, just a nickel

Turn back the hands of time

Turn back the hands of time

Picture a room with a window

A sofa and some chairs

A television turned on for the night

Picture a woman

Two children seated

A man lying there

Their faces softly glowing in the light

This is my country

These are my people

This is the world I understand

This is my country

These are my people

And I know 'em like the back of my own hand

If we had something to say we'd bounce it off the screen

We were watching and we couldn't look away

We all know what we look like, you know what I mean

We wouldn't have had it any other way

We got comedy, tragedy

Ev'rything from A to be

Watching other people living

Seeing other people play

Having other people's voices fill our minds

Thank you, Jesus

Feelings might go unexpressed

I think that's prob'ly for the best

Dig too deep, who knows what you will find

This is my country, those were my people

Theirs was the world I understand

Picture a room, no window

A door that leads outside

A man lying on a blanket on the floor

Picture his three grown boys behind him

Bouncing words off of a screen

Of a television big as all outdoors

Now your children are your children

Even when they're grown

When they speak to you

You got to listen to what they have to say

But they all live alone now

They have TVs of their own

But they keep on coming over anyway

And much as I love them

I'm always kind of glad when they go away

This is my country

These are my people

This is the world I understand

This is my country

These are my people

And I know 'em like the back of my own hand

I know 'em like the back of my own hand