There’s a clock on the wall and a
train on the track
You step from the platform without looking back
A seat by the window, a ticket to ride,
the silver coach lurches and then starts to glide
And lately you got this feeling inside that
Americas waiting… Americas waiting for you
You learn the old rhythms as you
roll along
The beat of the heartland is steady and strong
Steel rails stretch out just like old guitar strings…
and driving wheels bigger than God’s gold earring
strum them and you hear a continent sing
Americas waiting… America’s waiting for you
In the tall mountain pines and green rolling plains
In the roar of the great rivers swollen with rain
Where the red tail hawk wheels and the bald eagle soars and
On the thermals that rise from the rock canyon rock floors
From the Mexican gulf to the great northern shores
Americas waiting… America’s waiting...
In the strength and the spirit that’s drawn up from this native soil
You still see it shine in the faces of people who toil
for a dream that slips away a little more each day
In the crumbling cities and
boarded up towns
where prisons go up and the factories shut down
In the church basement shelters, the soup kitchen doors
In the eyes of the soldier just back from the war
If you’ve never taken a good look before
Americas waiting America’s waiting for you
