Thanksgiving day,
Families and celebrations,
Conversations of knowledge passed down generations,
Same story different year.
Its Thanksgiving.
Large or small gatherings,
Smiling, as children play.
The wife is near, by your side.
She’s always cooking dinner, on Thanksgiving.
The American way.
Sometimes the children live far away.
In a apartment on the wrong side of town a lonely man prays,
Prays for a better lover, and a passionate embrace,
Kisses all over her American face on Thanksgiving.
Is it all over?
She feels so far away,
Like friends from her hometown.
Running to the Greyhound or the Amtrack or even the Metronorth,
Spending hours on the bus untill she reaches town on Thanksgiving.
Come over its Thanksgiving.
A man sitting at the bar on the wrong side of the city at a truck stop,
In isolation estranged from the world.
Its been a while, seemingly so long from those distant memories,
Those distant celebrations from the past.
He thinks back to all the mistakes he made,
When he was young and still green,
Wet behind the ears,
The innocent days when they looked forward to the American dream on Thanksgiving.
Father looks out the window,
The view bringing a smile to his face.
All the children coming back home,
Home on this special day.
On Thanksgiving.
Want to come on over?