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  • Artist Info:
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    Where I'm From
    I'm from asphalt and rocks
    Metal cleaner and restaurants
    I'm from broken-bladed hockey sticks
    And swords made from aluminum scrap
    I'm from a back yard that wasn't really mine
    A nature park with wet smelling trails
    I'm from that one tree that I could hide in
    Which stood on the edge of the field

    I'm from two lakes and a slow river,
    Sun shining like diamonds on clear, blue water
    I'm from the fish that are in those lakes
    And the trout that took hours to land
    I'm from the blue line on ice
    And from the almighty poke-check,
    Cheered on by an old cow bell
    I'm from Get out of the dirt! And Wash your hands!
    And I'm from a family spread across the land

    I'm from cinnamon buns the size of saucers
    And from burnt cookies
    I'm from restaurant food too,
    From pizzas and ice cream, French fries and burgers
    And I'm from my own personal family clan
    Who are all winners in my book
    And to speak of books,
    I'm from the ones hidden amongst my stuff
    And the ones that hold the pictures of my youth
    All of which are now hidden in drawers under clothes
    And they still manage to gather memories
    With the feathers that I collected
    I am from the melodies of my own dreams
    The proud young girl sitting on the branches of the tree

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