Oh well,
a siren was swarming
Like a scene from a costume ball
Alive with the colors of Europe
And on fire with the hope of it all
There my father's own
father stood huddled
With the tired and the hungry
and the scared
Churn of the century pilgrims,
bound by the dream they shared.
They were standing in line
just like cattle,
poked and sordid and shod.
Some were one desk away
from sweet freedom,
Some were torn from someone
they loved.
Through the sprawling tower of Babel
Stood a young man con
fused and alone,
Determined and bound for America,
carrying everything that
he owned.
Sometimes when I look in my
grandfather's immigrant eyes,
I see that day reflected,
and I can't hold my feelings inside.
I see starting with nothing
and working hard all of his life.
So don't take it for granted,
say grandfathers,
emigrant fathers
Now he rocks and he
stares out the window,
but his eyes are still just as clear
as the day he sailed through the harbor
and came ashore on the Island of Tears.
Now my grandfather's
days are numbered,
but I won't let his memory die
Cause he gave me the gift of this country
and the look in his im migrant eyes
Sometimes when I look in my
grandfather's immigrant eyes
I see that day reflected
and I can't hold my feelings inside
I see starting with nothing
and working hard
No, don't take it for granted,
say Grandfather's Immigrant
Times.
you