Kids Of America by Sawyer

Friday night and everyone's moving.
I can feel the heat but it's soothing.
Heading down, I search for the beat in this dirty town.

Down town the young ones are going.
Down town the young ones are growing.

We're the kids in America.
We're the kids in America.
Everybody live for the music-go-round.

Bright ligths the music get faster.
Look boy, don't check on your watch, not another glance.
I'm not leaving now, honey not a chance.

We're the kids in America.
We're the kids in America.
Everybody live for the music-go-round.