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Luke Stricklin – American By Gods Amazing Grace lyrics
Bottom of my boots sure are gettin' worn
There's a lot of holes in this faded uniform
My hands are black with dirt and so is my face
I aint never been to hell
But it couldn't be any worse than this place.
Tell my wife don't worry 'cause I know what to do
It makes her feel better sometimes, but I don't know if it's true.
I know if I die it's just my time to go
But I pray to God every day that I make it back home.
Well when you've seen what I've seen
Things don't seem so bad
Quit worrying 'bout what you aint got, thank God for what you have
'Cause I could be raising my family in this place
But I was born an American
By Gods Amazing Grace.
For the last twelve months I've had a new address
The neighborhood smells like sewage and the streets are lined with trash.
You never know what's gonna be the next thing to explode
But unlike these people, I have another home.
It breaks my heart to see these kids out on the streets
Walking barefoot through the trash, beggin' for something to eat.
I give them what I got, just to let them know I care
And I thank God it's not my son that's standing there.
Well when you've seen what I've seen
Things don't seem so bad
Quit worrying 'bout what you aint got, thank God for what you have
'Cause I could be raising my family in this place
But I was born an American
By Gods Amazing Grace.
You want to talk about it, you better keep it short
Cause I got a lot of lost time I gotta make up for.
Really don't care why Bush went in to Iraq
I know what I've done there and I'm damn sure proud of that.
You got somethin' bad to say about the usa
You better save it for different ears 'less you want to crawl away.
And I'll laugh in your face when you say you've got it bad
And tell you to spend some time on the streets of Baghdad
Well when you've seen what I've seen
Things don't seem so bad
Quit worrying 'bout what you aint got, thank God for what you have
'Cause you could be raising your family in this place
But you were born an American, By God's Amazing Grace!
There's a lot of holes in this faded uniform
My hands are black with dirt and so is my face
I aint never been to hell
But it couldn't be any worse than this place.
Tell my wife don't worry 'cause I know what to do
It makes her feel better sometimes, but I don't know if it's true.
I know if I die it's just my time to go
But I pray to God every day that I make it back home.
Well when you've seen what I've seen
Things don't seem so bad
Quit worrying 'bout what you aint got, thank God for what you have
'Cause I could be raising my family in this place
But I was born an American
By Gods Amazing Grace.
For the last twelve months I've had a new address
The neighborhood smells like sewage and the streets are lined with trash.
You never know what's gonna be the next thing to explode
But unlike these people, I have another home.
It breaks my heart to see these kids out on the streets
Walking barefoot through the trash, beggin' for something to eat.
I give them what I got, just to let them know I care
And I thank God it's not my son that's standing there.
Well when you've seen what I've seen
Things don't seem so bad
Quit worrying 'bout what you aint got, thank God for what you have
'Cause I could be raising my family in this place
But I was born an American
By Gods Amazing Grace.
You want to talk about it, you better keep it short
Cause I got a lot of lost time I gotta make up for.
Really don't care why Bush went in to Iraq
I know what I've done there and I'm damn sure proud of that.
You got somethin' bad to say about the usa
You better save it for different ears 'less you want to crawl away.
And I'll laugh in your face when you say you've got it bad
And tell you to spend some time on the streets of Baghdad
Well when you've seen what I've seen
Things don't seem so bad
Quit worrying 'bout what you aint got, thank God for what you have
'Cause you could be raising your family in this place
But you were born an American, By God's Amazing Grace!
Lyrics taken from
/lyrics/l/luke_stricklin/american_by_gods_amazing_grace.html