I feel the American

I feel the American in my car
Tuning in to NPR
All things considered, it helps me see
The air is fresher here near me

I feel the American when I sing
“Midnight on the City of New Orleans”
By a man who died without a cent
Music used without consent

I feel the American, but last I checked
It seems I’ll die here in Québec
Never have enough endurance
To pay for US health insurance

I feel the American when you say
Out and about, Vancouver, eh?
No one can pronounce my name
Ain’t one here that’s quite the same

I feel the American on my skin
That once was thick but now it’s thin
Though not a chance that I’ll go back
Don’t fit in either place I’m at

I feel the American and the rage
The court Supreme has locked the cage
On many lives across that nation
Controlled by acts of penetration

I feel the American in my dreams
Traveling back to be eighteen
Hearing songs that make me cry
Rocking that foreigner lullaby