#folk #political #girlwithukulele #fuc

I started FAWM on my morning dog walk, looking down the winding Dutch street I now call home. This sleepy little town is my place of refuge from a world gone mad - from a place where I am no longer welcome.

But I started to feel just a bit like the intruder that some would see me as - the harbinger of something to come. By the time I got home, I had half the song.

American Jemma Kline

The bricks are rounded, wet and cold, As birds are watching from atop the ruddy tiles. My back is straight, my gaze is bold, But I am keeping secrets locked behind my smile.

So welcome me into your land. I’ll be your friend, give you a hand, The shadow stretching where I stand, American.

I buy a house and settle in. As children play outside, I am looking at the news. For I can feel the autumn wind, And I can smell the blood that’s left upon my shoes.

So welcome me into your land. I’ll be your friend, give you a hand, The shadow stretching where I stand, American.

Now cities darken in the distance as they cut the power lines, Their people hiding from the rockets that are falling from the sky. I see the signs. I know my kind. Their hands have touched upon this place where I had hoped that I could hide.

So welcome me into your land. I’ll be your friend, give you a hand, The shadow stretching where I stand, American.