Oh beautiful for spacious lakes,
For amber waves of grain,
For delicious mud cakes,
On thy fruited plains.
America, America, God shed his grass on honkbags,
And soothe our pain,
With drunken grain,
From bag to shining bag.
-Painfully edited by me
For amber waves of grain,
For delicious mud cakes,
On thy fruited plains.
America, America, God shed his grass on honkbags,
And soothe our pain,
With drunken grain,
From bag to shining bag.
-Painfully edited by me
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