From the recording Swamp Gas Messiahs

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You might be different
You might be strange
Probably come
From some other place
You dress pretty funny
An' what an odd name
Why don't you go back
From wherever you came

Give me your tired
Give me your poor
The wretched refuse
Of your teeming shore
Send these, the homeless
To our golden door...
But does the mother of exiles
Shine anymore?

They came from the north
The south, east and west
We welcomed them sometimes
And near-passed the test
But those differences
That we might celebrate
Seemed to challenge our power
And made us irate
It seemed competition
To who we'd become
It was never an issue
‘Cuz we always won

The broken, the orphans
Returning vets
Minority people
And the tribes that are left
The foreigner, addict
And those we don't like
They boil up our fears
Challenged our way of life
To share became odious
Taxing us raw
Enough is enough...
We ain't open no more

Does the mother of exiles
Matter anymore?