Walls Around a Mixing Pot

I grew up in the south, the north, a little bit of the west
Many different perspectives and social constructs
Boiling down to the same basic concept
Know your place, advert your eyes, and keep to yourself
Cause in the end, no one honestly cares how you've been
It's all a script running in the back of your head
When to speak, when to not, but never care to listen
Just to open your mouth and spout the great American tradition

How are you, fine, how you been, great
We should hang, I'm busy, but thanks
Maybe another time, maybe another place
Rinse, repeat, say your grace

You ever get life advice from a good ol boy from Arkansas
All southern drawl droning on, all I hear is blah blah blah
Black sheep in a family of the questionably unique
All sprinting from each other and we've all gone too deep
It's the true mixing pot
Family splits and bolts
To other states other lives
Blends in, hides out
Like they are bailing to save their hides
They're all families in the same skins
But they're all strangers within

How are you, fine, how you been, great
We should hang, I'm busy, but thanks
Maybe another time, maybe another place
Rinse, repeat, say your grace
How are you, fine, how you been, great
We should hang, I'm busy, but thanks
Maybe another time, maybe another place
Rinse, repeat, say your grace

And that is all good and fine
That's the American way
You either close ranks
Or spread and change
And the one constant in it all
That we'll never change
We'll keep raising our walls
Either way