(Mary Chapin Carpenter)



When we were young, we pledged allegiance every morning of our lives

The classroom rang with children's voices under teacher's watchful eye

We learned about the world around us at our desks and at dinnertime

Reminded of the starving children, we cleaned our plates with guilty minds

And the stones in the road shone like diamonds in the dust

And then a voice called to us to make our way back home



When I was ten, my father held me on his shoulders above the crowd

To see a train draped in mourning pass slowly through our town

His widow kneeled with all their children at the sacred burial ground

And the TV glowed that long hot summer with all the cities burning down



And the stones in the road flew out beneath our bicycle tires

Worlds removed from all those fires as we raced each other home



And now we drink our coffee on the run, we climb that ladder rung by rung

We are the daughters and the sons, and here's the line that's missing



The starving children have been replaced by souls out on the street

We give a dollar when we pass, and hope our eyes don't meet

We pencil in, we cancel out, we crave the corner suite

We kiss your ass, we make you hold, we doctor the receipt



And the stones in the road fly out from beneath our wheels

Another day, another deal, before we get back home



And the stones in the road leave a mark from whence they came

A thousand points of light or shame, baby, I don't know