I pity the poor immigrant
I pity the poor immigrant
I pity the poor immigrant
Who hears but does not see
Who passionately hates his life
Who fills his mouth with laughing
And who builds his town with blood
Whose tears are like rain
That man whom with his fingers cheats
Who falls in love with wealth itself
Who tramples through the mud
Whose visions in the final end
And who lies with every breath
Whose strength is spent in vain
And turns his back on me
Who eats but is not satisfied
And likewise, fears his death
Who uses all his power to do evil
Must shatter like the glass
Whose heaven is like Ironsides
But in the end is always left so alone
