Americans in Corduroys - Jeffrey Foucault

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

Now for richer and for poorer

Go vagabond and wild as a spark

It was a civilized affair

You wore flowers in your hair

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