i'm so content, to stand in line  wait and see, pass the time  talk a streak, fall alseep, wake up late, whine and weep  i kiss the hand that slaps me senseless  i'm so accepting, so defenseless  i am far too Canadian  far too Canadian  i pick the bones, of what's been done  lick them clean, with a cautious tongue  in dim lit rooms, i spill my guts  i'm the revolution when the doors are shut  i'd bite the hand that slaps me senseless  but my patience is too relentless  i am far too Canadian  i am far too Canadian  i am the face of my country  experssionless and small  weak at the knees, shaking badly  can't straighten up at all  i watch the spine of my country bend and break  i'm a sorry state  i scratch the walls, to mark the days  with my coup d e (tête), i'm locked away  with Mother Jones, pots of tea  the kitchen poster, anarchy  i never march in demonstrations  i hold my breath for arbitration  i am far too Canadian  i am the face of my country  experssionless and small  weak at the knees, shaking badly  can't straighten up at all  i watch the spine of my country bend and break  i'm a sorry state