Where I come from it's a land of many islands
Two rivers run to the east and to the west
Wanted to run far away as I could, as fast as I could get
No matter where I've been, I can't escape who I am or forget
Where I come from, paint is peeling all the time
The winter's long, gets into your boots
The river runs high and wild, high and wild in the springtime
The tourists come through our fading little town when the sun shines
Veterans, the veterans of all the past wars
Sit outside on a Sunday afternoon
The mills closed down long ago and so we're way past unemployment
A good bad joke somebody told on our town for their enjoyment
September sun, colours boldly flying
In pretty reds, orange, gold and brown
Most beautiful as the light is dying
Most beautiful as the day goes down