The Immigrant

Long ago there was a man,
Traveling here from a distant land.
He was hungry, filled with fear,
But still he felt such magic here.
He was weary from the bitter cold,
Wrapped up in his greatcoat.
His face was young, his eyes were very old;
Just got off the boat.

Down by the harbor every day,
Working hard for such meager pay.
Learning the language; learning it well –
So hard to speak, so hard to spell.
All the streets were paved with shining gold,
Land of milk and honey.
All the glowing stories that they told –
All of them came true.

Using his muscles, using his head,
Giving thanks for his daily bread,
Reading old textbooks late at night,
Burning candles to save the light.
All the streets were paved with shining gold,
Land of milk and honey.
All the glowing stories that they told –
For some, they all came true.

Every family, woman and man,
We all came here from a distant land.
Even the oldest Indian band,
We all came here from a distant land.