A young man on the bank of a river
What young man, what river you might ask
Any young man, any river I'd reply
And he's throwing little stones into the river
And on the other bank of the river
A presidential candidate approaches
With his reception committee
What presidential candidate, you could ask
Just about any candidate I'd say
As long as he recognizes him from tv
The thing is, all at once there is just a little stone
Between this young man and the next in line president
Neither lightyears of wire, nor wireless waves
No fundraising, no direct mail, except for this little stone
America, America, America
America, America, America
I will be there to stand for fair America
Listen, listen, this young man, he suddenly feels very
How can I put this, right, unmanipulated
And it doesn't really matter if he finally throws the stone
Or maybe he's carrying a gun
Or maybe his arm is long enough to except the handshake
Or maybe, maybe the river opens, just to walk across
You know in fairytales these things are imaginable!
America, America, America
America, America, America
I will be there to stand for fair America
One day it happens in your neighbourhood
Down in good fairyland
One day all distance may show to be bridgeable
America, America, America
America, America, America
I will be there to stand for good and fair America
America, America, America
America, America, America
I will be there to stand for fair America
America, America, America
America, America, America
I will be there to stand for fair America