The Wounded Colossus

Goodbye, you tired, you poor, huddled masses yearning to be free. My lamp is out, my golden door slammed shut, guarded by masked thugs ashamed to show their faces but eager to attack and imprison women, children, the elderly.

Whether you are held in the fetid swamps of the Everglades, the wilds of rural Louisiana, the backlands of the desert, or hiding afraid anywhere, this song is for you.

The time will come again when my light shines, my door opens, welcoming you to come, to live among us, our land once again a festival of acceptance, freedom, and opportunity.