GI pity theC poor D7immigrant who wGishes he would have stayed home
Who usGes all his pCower to do D7evil but in the Gend is always left so alone
That e man whom wib th his fingerCs cheats, wGho lies with every breath
Who GpassionCately hates hD7is life Gand likewise fears his death


I pity the poor immigrant who tramples thru the mud
Who fills his mouth with laughing & who builds his town with blood
Who eats but is not satisfied, who hears but does not see
Who falls in love with wealth itself and turns his back on me

I pity the poor immigrant whose strength is spent in vain
Whose heaven is like ironsides, whose tears are like rain
Whose visions in the final end, must shatter like the glass
I pity the poor immigrant when his gladness comes to pass