i'm so content, to stand in line

wait and see, pass the time

talk a streak, fall alseep, wake up late, whine and weep

i kiss the hand that slaps me senseless

i'm so accepting, so defenseless

i am far too Canadian

far too Canadian



i pick the bones, of what's been done

lick them clean, with a cautious tongue

in dim lit rooms, i spill my guts

i'm the revolution when the doors are shut

i'd bite the hand that slaps me senseless

but my patience is too relentless

i am far too Canadian

i am far too Canadian



i am the face of my country

experssionless and small

weak at the knees, shaking badly

can't straighten up at all

i watch the spine of my country bend and break

i'm a sorry state



i scratch the walls, to mark the days

with my coup d e (tête), i'm locked away

with Mother Jones, pots of tea

the kitchen poster, anarchy

i never march in demonstrations

i hold my breath for arbitration

i am far too Canadian



i am the face of my country

experssionless and small

weak at the knees, shaking badly

can't straighten up at all

i watch the spine of my country bend and break

i'm a sorry state