One, two, three four,

Where I’m from,
Sunday is the first day of the week,
Where I’m from,
You’ll find wine instead of water,
In the creek.
Where I’m from,
The strong they live,
Of off the weak.

Where I’m from,
The boys they are dressed like girls,
In pretty skirts,
They twist each other’s hair into curls,
Where I’m from,
Nobody walks,
Everybody twirls.

Where I’m from,
There’s no King and Queen, 
And that’s fine,
They use the sun and moon,
And tell their year and the time,
Where I’m from,
It’s far from here,
But it’s mine.

Far from here,
But it’s mine.

Where I’m from,
Sunday is the first day of the week,
Where I’m from,
You’ll find wine instead of water,
In the creek.
Where I’m from,
The strong they live,
Of off the weak,

Where I’m from,
The boys they are dressed like girls,
In pretty skirts,
They twist each other’s hair into curls,
Where I’m from,
Nobody walks,
Everybody twirls.

Where I’m from,
There’s no King and Queen, 
And that’s fine,
They use the sun and moon,
And tell their year and the time,
Where I’m from,
It’s far from here,
But it’s mine.

Far from here,
But it’s mine.
Far from here,
But it’s mine.
Far from here,
But it’s mine.
Far from here,
Far from here,
But it’s mine.