I Pity the Poor Immigrant

I pity the poor immigrant
 Who wishes he would've stayed home
 
 Who uses all his power to do evil
 But in the end is always left so alone
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 That man whom with his fingers cheats
 And whom lies with every breath
 
 Who passionately hates his life
 And likewise fears his death
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 I pity the poor immigrant
 Whose strength is spent in vain
 
 Whose heaven is like Ironsides
 Whose tears are like rain
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 Who eats, but is not satisfied
 Who hears, but does not see
 Who falls in love with wealth itself
 And turns his back on me
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 I pity the poor immigrant
 Who tramples through the mud
 Who fills his mouth with laughing
 And who builds his town with blood
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 Whose visions in the final end
 Must shatter like the glass
 I pity the poor immigrant
 When his gladness comes to pass