American Life

In a town in the southernmost Sicily

Lived a family too proud to be poor

In the year that fever took father away

They hastened for American shores

Now a mother and her son are standing in line

It's a cold day on Ellis Isle

And they look to the Statue of Liberty

For the boy we have American life

Ong is a Laotian refugee

He works in the audio trade

The smoke from the flux is filling his lungs

He's earning minimum wage

Spending spare time down on San Pablo Ave.

Once a week gets a woman for the night

And he writes home tales of prosperity

For the boy we have American life

For the boy we have American life

Bob is an unemployed veteran

Born and bred in the South Bronx

He's living off the streets down in East L.A.

Residing in a cardboard box

Now, he plays a little guit' and he has a small dog

Searching for aluminum cans

And he holds on tight to his dignity

For the boy we have American life

He was born into American life

For the boy we have American life