America’s Poor

Hazel Dickens
Language: English

Well you don't know my name
But you sure know my face
You’ve seen me a million times
In some laboring place

Although we're worlds apart
I’m in your daily plan‎
For I bring you fame and fortune
With my own two working hands

We’re America’s poor
Oh yes, we’re living right here
And poverty’s door‎
It just won’t hold anymore
No name or no face
We have lost our plane
We fell through the cracks
Looking for the tracks
Of the American Dream

There’s a man on the corner
With a tin cup in his hand‎
Though he fought in two wars
His nightmares are still Vietnam

They gave him medals and promises
Now the streets and a shelter’s his home‎
He just stands there in rags
With his medals and begs
And wonders what on Earth went wrong‎

All the factories are closing, going down where the labor is cheap‎
And they’ve cheated their workers, out of pensions and their lifelong dreams
Too old to start over, they will lose everything that they own
But south of the border a new factory’s in order‎
To cheat their workers again.‎

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