ThomasRedheart

<p><strong>Sweet Land of Liberty</strong></p><p><strong>Lyrics By: Thomas W. Peterson AKA RedHeart&nbsp;</strong></p><p><strong>&nbsp;©COPYRIGHT 6-4-25 All Rights Reserved ©</strong></p><p><br></p><p><strong>Verse 1</strong></p><p><strong>Dusty boots on a Greyhound seat</strong></p><p><strong>Purple Heart and memories bittersweet</strong></p><p><strong>Saw the Statue through the morning haze</strong></p><p><strong>Tennessee sun on the final stretch of highway</strong></p><p><strong>A farmhouse stands where the oak tree grows</strong></p><p><strong>Where daddy taught him all a farmer knows</strong></p><p><strong>But the fields lay still since the telegram came</strong></p><p><strong>"Missing in action" was the government's cold refrain</strong></p><p><br></p><p><strong>Chorus</strong></p><p><strong>Oh, sweet land of liberty, where the brave still roam</strong></p><p><strong>Through the amber waves and heartland stone</strong></p><p><strong>From the Blue Ridge Mountains to the California shore</strong></p><p><strong>We plant the seeds of freedom like our fathers did before</strong></p><p><br></p><p><strong>Verse 2</strong></p><p><strong>Met a widow at the VFW hall</strong></p><p><strong>Her husband fell at the Khe Sanh wall</strong></p><p><strong>She saw his limp and the ghosts he'd fight</strong></p><p><strong>Two broken souls in the soft church light</strong></p><p><strong>They married in spring with the dogwoods white</strong></p><p><strong>Worked the land from dawn to night</strong></p><p><strong>Plowed the south forty with an old John Deere</strong></p><p><strong>Whispered "We'll heal here" year after year</strong></p><p><br></p><p><strong>Bridge</strong></p><p><strong>Some say that flag's just a faded dream</strong></p><p><strong>Full of hollow words and crooked seams</strong></p><p><strong>But they never felt the soil in their hand</strong></p><p><strong>Or stood for something they couldn't understand</strong></p><p><br></p><p><strong>Verse 3</strong></p><p><strong>Now grandkids run where the corn rows sway</strong></p><p><strong>That Purple Heart in a glass display</strong></p><p><strong>He tells 'em 'bout buddies left in the mud</strong></p><p><strong>And why they bled for this land of blood and bud</strong></p><p><strong>At the county fair, the old folks smile</strong></p><p><strong>As the fiddle plays in the July twilight</strong></p><p><strong>He takes her hand as the fireworks fly</strong></p><p><strong>"Still the sweetest land 'neath God's blue sky"</strong></p><p><br></p><p><strong>Final Chorus</strong></p><p><strong>Oh, sweet land of liberty, scarred but standing tall</strong></p><p><strong>Where the lost come home and broken walls fall</strong></p><p><strong>May your rivers run with justice clear and true</strong></p><p><strong>'Cause every tear we shed makes red and white and blue</strong></p><p><br></p><p><strong>Outro</strong></p><p><strong>Sweet land... sweet land...</strong></p><p><strong>Keep calling us home</strong></p><p><strong>Sweet land of lib—erty...</strong></p>