|
||||||||
We came on the Santa Maria And we come on the Sloop John B We keep coming ‘cause we heard There was a place we could be free From the shores of many nations We’re blown here by the wind Sweet lady of the harbor Won’t you kindly let us in
I see so many faces Coming here from so many places For a chance on the streets of America
Leaving home, losing pride Some suffer, some simply die For a glance at the streets of America
I’m not sure why they call it the land of the free But I know why they call it the home of the brave
I see sisters and brothers Trading one heartache for another And a shot at the streets of America
Those who have they ain’t givin’ Those who don’t are workin’ for a livin’ They’re forgotten on the streets of America
I’m not sure why they call it the land of the free But I know why they call it the home of the brave
I hear so many voices Telling me there ain’t many choices When you sleep on the streets of America
I’m not sure why they call it the land of the free But I know why they call it the home of the brave I’m not sure why they call it the land of the free But I know why they call it the home of the brave |
|
|||||||
|
||||||||
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ | ||||||||