Liberty’s Feast

(ahhhh) From the maple syrup dynamic of Maine

To the smoked brisket rolling on the Texas plain

Three hundred million gathered round the table today

With a paper plate and something good to say

Yeah we got the apple pie cooling on the sill

And the sound of a engine echoing on the hill

(oh yeah)

Under the eagle soaring high in the sun

Where the coffee is strong and the cookout is done

Got our boots on the ground and our freedom won

Every single hand together under the sun

(sing it out!)

We got deep-dish Chicago,

sweet tea in the South

Hot sauce that’ll melt right in your mouth

There's a target range clicking on a Saturday night

Underneath the wide open starry light

Coast to coast, every town,

every street

Three hundred million strong and we never skip a beat

(no we don't)

Under the eagle soaring high in the sun

Where the coffee is strong and the cookout is done

Got our boots on the ground and our freedom won

Every single hand together under the sun (yeah!)

Just a big melting pot,

passing the plate around (mm-mmh)