I see huddled masses,
From Detroit to Brooklyn—
And they all yearn to breath free,
Yet, in their search for liberty,
They can’t find any,
So they choke on the words of tyranny.

They’re the wretched refuse
Of America’s gluttonous dream.
They’re tempest-tossed,
Yet, even on American shores they’re lost,
As they stare at the golden door
That has far too high a cost.

A nation of promise
Covenanted to what it could not provide.
It defaulted on its pledge of equality,
Freedom, hope, and democracy.
Yet, even blind men can see,
That these are only the words of ideology.

The “Mother of Exiles” lifts her lamp
To the corruption of a broken system
As monopolies on poverty
Plague inner-city schools
Where political games are the only rules,
So that the system can create more fools.

God bless America,
But God bless the true one.