America is in terms that I can come to terms with.
America is a way with words, America is what it takes to describe an urban landscape, America is a blending of voices, America is a sophisticated form of art. America is a day old railroad of the new world where the waters have never been tested, where our trust lies in the ones best at acting their part. America is what we make out of a broken home, and America will be the first to cast a stone. America sees us off, with tears, and roses chosen for us in a dim lit florist. America already knows where to find you, and that the worst is behind you, America is a Grandmother named Jones.