Flag on the Can

hen I drink a Bud Light do I love America?
Or only when there's a flag on the can
And when I sit down and write a record
Can I be more than just another sad, white man?

I'm almost out of favors
But maybe there's a little love left in hand
If you let me sign the papers
And lay down mine to protect the branches

Let me die in Montana
In a bathing suit of all the good
To a coolness of "Hosanna"
Looking to the big, big, big sky

Once the cash in the backpacks and the slush funds is gone
And all the Brink's have gone home
Do you really think I could build a nation
And I hadn't ordered this on my own

There's better fortunes on the table
Learn a word of Chinese and check your phone
I'll call you when I'm able
Cause no respect to reception in
The congestions of As I drive into Montana
In a bathing suit of all the good
And a classic red bandana
Looking for the big, big, big sky

I find it hard to express myself in definite
When I'm trying to help I say
"Come on now, what is philosophy anyway, anyway?"

When I drink a Bud Light do I love America?
Or only when there's a flag on the can
And when I sit down and write a record
Can I be more than just a sad, sad, white man?

Who dreams of dying in Montana
In a bathing suit of all the good
With a belly full of manna
Underneath the big, big, big sky
That shines on Montana
If I tell it, too, of all the good
Don't you cry now, O Susanna
We're heading for the big, big, big sky