With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!
With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!
With a pocket full of shells
They rally 'round the family
With a pocket full of shells"
With a pocket full of shells
They rally 'round the family
With a pocket full of shells"
Are the same that burn crosses!
Uh!
Are the same that burn crosses!
Uh!