Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain,

Except the dream thats almost dead today.

We, the people, must redeem

Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death,

The mountains and the endless plain--

We must take back our land again,

Thats made America the land it has become.九_九_藏_書

For Im the one who left dark Irelands shore,

The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies,

And yet must be--the land where every man is free.

And all the hopes weve held

Surely not me? The millions on relief today?

In search of what I meant to be my home--

And 九_九_藏_書torn from Black Africas strand I came

O, yes,

The millions who have nothing for our pay?

From those who live like leeches on the peoples lives,

To build a "homeland of the free."

O, let America be America again--

The land, the miｈttｐｓ://ｒｅａd.９９csｗ•ｃomnes, the plants, the rivers.

And yet I swear this oath--

And make America again!

O, Im the man who sailed those early seas

All, all the stretch of these great green states--

Sure, call me any ugly name youhttps://read.99csw.com choose--

The free?

Must bring back our mighty dream again.

America will be!

The steel of freedom does not stain.

For all the dreams weve dreamed

Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain,

And Polands plain, and Englands grassy lea,

The millions shot down when we strike?

Ahttps://read.99csw.commerica!

And all the flags weve hung,

The land that never has been yet--

Who said the free? Not me?

America never was America to me,

And all the songs weve sung

I say it plain,

The millions who have nothing for our pay--

The land thats mine--the poor mans, Indians, Negros, ME--

Who made America,