There is no way past the window,
Here inside, here inside,
We've gotten lost,
In search of America...
America...
America...
But she still thinks in gold,
Though her voice,
It sounds out in warning,
Don't speak to soon,
For the wheels still in spin,
Still in spin...
Though it suits you quite well,
I'm not sure you could tell,
No i'm not sure you could tell,
I'm not sure you could tell...
Your heaven, from my hell...
Still there is no way past the window,
Here inside, here inside,
We've gotten lost,
In search of America...
America...
America...
