When the bough broke we were crossing America
You with your stories and me hanging on
Your hands on the wheel and your hair out the window
It's counterfeit color danced in the September air
When the bough broke we were flirting with Canada
You said prove that you love me and live with me there
And leave all of the frivolous back in America
You found true love in a picture that you saw somewhere
He took her hand, they did cartwheels right into the air
And then they fell
With the bough broken, we're lost in America
(Driving in circles and circles and chasing our tails)
You with your politics, me hanging on
(Driving in circles and circles and circles and...)
I think I know of the picture that you saw somewhere
The fire below, they did cartwheels right into the air
And then they fell
(Layers of concrete won't dampen the roar of the
Chaos beneath those ninety-something floors
And the weight of the waves as they crashed on the shore
Left a cool breeze past the buildings
And so they fell)
Why can't you just sit there is all that I wanted to say
So, we're obsessed with celebrity and all the frivolity
And all the while gravity's pulling us straight into Hell
And so we fell
My silence was broken, through glorious peaks of Montana
Now, this is America, I muttered under my breath
Artist: Funkadelic
Artist: Peter Frampton
Artist: Obie Trice