The Golden Door

They can build a wall a thousand feet high
but she got no fear;
she convinced herself she’s prepared to die
for the freedom she holds dear.
It’s dangerous but she got no choice
as they make-a-break for the shore
for the sake of herself and her two boys
beyond The Golden Door.

And the Lady says,
“Gimme your tired, and your poor,
your huddled masses longing to be free;
the wretched refuse of your teeming shore
send these, the homeless,
tempest-tossed to me.”

They can build a wall to keep him out
but that won’t keep him in;
his faith in freedom so devout
he’ll try again and again.
It’s dangerous, but he’ll take that chance
as he hides beneath the floor
of that old box truck as it makes it’s advance
through The Golden Door.

And the Lady says,
“Gimme your tired, and your poor,
your huddled masses longing to be free;
the wretched refuse of your teeming shore
send these, the homeless,
tempest-tossed to me.”

They can build a wall,
all around the land
but there’s something they just don’t get:
The ring of freedom
can’t be canned––
cuz The American Dream gon’ over-flow it…

And the Lady says,
“Gimme your tired, and your poor,
your huddled masses longing to be free;
the wretched refuse of your teeming shore
send these, the homeless,
tempest-tossed to me.”

“Gimme your tired, and your poor,
your huddled masses longing to be free;
the wretched refuse of your teeming shore
send these, the homeless,
tempest-tossed to me,

…I lift my lamp to thee.”

—P

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