What is A-mer-i-ca to me? A name, a map, the flag I see, a cer-tain word, "De-moc - ra - cy." What is A-mer-i-ca to me? The house I live in, A plot of earth, a street, The groc-er and the butch-er and the peo-ple that I meet, The chil-dren in the play-ground, the fac-es that I see; All rac-es, all re-lig-ions, that's A-mer-i-ca to me. The place I work in, the work-er at my side The lit-tle town or cit-y where my peo-ple lived and died The "how-dy" and the hand-shake the air of feel-ing free the right to speak my mind out, that's A-mer-i-ca to me. The things I see a-bout me the big things and the small The lit-tle cor-ner news-stand and the house a mile__tall; The wed-ding and the church-yard, the laugh-ter and the tears, The dream that's been a grow-in' for a hun-dred fif-ty years The town I live in the street, the house, the room, The pave-ment of the cit-y, or a gar-den all in bloom, The church, the school, the club house, The mil-lion lights I see, But es-pec-ial-ly the peo-ple, That's A- mer - i -ca to me.