| He’s doing the line
|
| He’s gender defined
|
| It’s the magic of America
|
| We’re always so American
|
| The truth of it is
|
| That he just wants to kiss
|
| That boy that she’s talking to
|
| The one that seems to own the room
|
| The way that he dances
|
| The touch of his hands and
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| The unapologetic way
|
| His tiny clothes stick to his frame
|
| We’ll put alcohol
|
| And the drugs in the stall
|
| He feels like he’s getting weak
|
| He grabs his girl and starts to leave
|
| With one look back
|
| He accepts the fact that
|
| It’s the magic of America
|
| We’re always so American
|
| She’s doing the line
|
| She’s gender defined
|
| It’s the magic of America
|
| We’re always so American
|
| If she had her way
|
| She would know what to say
|
| To that girl that comes into her store
|
| By herself but not alone
|
| It’s her confident charm
|
| And the curve of her arms
|
| That tightly bends her circuitry
|
| A twisted mess of interesting
|
| The girl’s outside
|
| And she offers a ride
|
| But she says «I think I’ll take my bike,
|
| It is such a lovely night.»
|
| With one look back
|
| She accepts the fact
|
| It’s the magic of America
|
| We’re always so American
|
| By some off chance
|
| They both cross paths
|
| And found a certain ratio
|
| That pleased them both
|
| And made them whole
|
| He likes wearing her clothes
|
| She likes watching him dress
|
| And through all this back and forth
|
| Grew a certain innocence
|
| He’s not a boy
|
| And she’s not a girl
|
| Just two individuals
|
| Who made their place inside this world
|
| They’re destroying the line
|
| That’s gender defined
|
| It’s the battle for America
|
| Both of them American
|
| It’s the battle for America
|
| Both of them American
|
| It’s the battle for America
|
| Both of them American |