I love Thanksgiving when we pray,
\nAnd July 4th and Labor Day
\nWith picnics, ants, and hungry flies,
\nAnd barbecue and hot French fries,
\nWith Cokes and chips and apple pies
\nBeneath some hazy, lazy skies.<\/p>\n
I love Miami’s royal palm
\nThat oozes forth a healing balm
\nBeside the ocean’s quiet calm.<\/p>\n
And Betsy Ross, and Orville Wright,
\nAnd dear Ben Franklin’s flying kite;
\nAnd Thomas Jefferson’s mightly quill,
\nAnd Alamo, and Bunker Hill,
\nAnd Paul Revere’s midnight ride,
\nAnd Wilbur Wright’s successful glide.<\/p>\n
I love United’s friendly skies;
\nAnd baseball when the umpire cries,
\n“Play ball!” as thousands quietly rise
\nTo turn their moistened sober eyes
\nToward waving flag that proudly flies.<\/p>\n
And Casey Stengal’s Stengaleze,
\nAnd Dairy Queen, and Tastee Freeze,
\nAnd cotton candy at the zoo;
\nAnd corny dogs and Big Macs too;
\nAnd Burger Kings, and shopping malls,
\nAnd hockey pucks, and basketballs.<\/p>\n
And Mississippi’s cotton fields,
\nAnd Holland, Michigan’s spinning wheels;
\nMonotonous midwestern plains,
\nFlorida’s sun, Seattle’s rams.<\/p>\n
Atlanta’s lovely, dogwood trails,
\nAnd Santa Fe’s long clicking rails.
\nI love the Rocky Mountain peaks
\nBeneath a sky which mutely speaks;<\/p>\n
And Disney World, and Disney Land,
\nAnd Georgia’s fertile blood-red sand:
\nThe Mississippi, and Rio Grande;
\nWisconsin’s cheese and dairy land.<\/p>\n
I love McDonald’s chocolate shakes,
\nAnd Minnesota’s thousand lakes;
\nThe Royal Gorge’s mighty yawn,
\nA sleepy Alabama dawn;
\nThe harvest moon that shineth on.<\/p>\n
I love to gaze at Yellowstone
\nWhile licking on an ice cream cone;
\nAnd Howard Johnson’s Motor Lodge;
\nAnd Ford, and Chevrolet, and Dodge.<\/p>\n
I love the stately Empire State,
\nAnd San Francisco’s Golden Gate.<\/p>\n
I love St. Louis’ friendly arch,
\nThe Statue of Liberty’s burning torch,
\nThe Washington Monument’s prickly goad,
\nAnd Colorado’s trail ridge road.<\/p>\n
I love “My Country, Tis of Thee,”
\nOh, blessed land of liberty.
\nLong may our glorious land be bright,
\nWith freedom’s wondrous holy light,
\nProtect us by Thy matchless might.<\/p>\n
I love to stand with hand o’er heart
\nAnd think of those who did their part,
\nWho left a mom a lone gold star,
\nWhose bodies rest ‘neath fields afar.<\/p>\n
I love New England’s rolling farms,
\nIts quaint decor and blushing charms.<\/p>\n
I love the azalea’s freshened blooms,
\nEast Texas’ roses sparkling plumes.<\/p>\n
I love it when my church choir sings,
\nAnd know the peace that worship brings.<\/p>\n
There beats within my breast a dream
\nThat that small faint and flickering gleam
\nWill soon become a mighty flame
\nTo spread to all His matchless name:
\nThat those dear four who call me “Dad”
\nWill know the country I have had;
\nWhere freedom’s flag flies proud and high,
\nAnd those dear ones may loudly cry,
\n“I’m free! My dad helped make it so.
\nThat faint small gleam is now aglow!
\nThat Christian land that he once knew
\nIs now the kind that we know too!
\nGod’s judging hand has now been stayed,
\nSo I and mine are not afraid,
\nFor churches like our own abound
\nIn every city, village, town!
\nWe’re free to witness, visit, teach
\nThe same dear truths we heard Dad preach!
\nAnd now we vow to God above
\nTo pass it on to those we love.”<\/p>\n