Thousands Are Sailing

The island, it is silent now, but the ghosts still haunt the waves

And the torch lights up a famished man who fortune could not save

Did you work upon the railroad? Did you rid the streets of crime?

Were your dollars from the White House? Were they from the five-and-dime?

Did the old songs taunt or cheer you? And did they still make you cry?

Did you count the months and years, or did your teardrops quickly dry?

"Ah, no!" says he, "'Twas was not to be.

On a coffin ship I came here

And I never even got so far that they could change my name"

Thousands are sailing across the western ocean

To a land of opportunity that some of them will never see

Fortune prevailing across the western ocean

Their bellies full, their spirits free

They'll break the chains of poverty

And they'll dance

In Manhattan's desert twilight

In the death of afternoon

We stepped hand in hand on Broadway like the first man on the Moon

And "The Blackbird" broke the silence as you whistled it so sweet

And in Brendan Behan's footsteps I danced up and down the street

Then we said goodnight to Broadway, giving it our best regards

Tipped our hats to Mr. Cohan, dear old Times Square's favourite bard

Then we raised a glass to JFK and a dozen more besides

When I got back to my empty room I suppose I must have cried

Thousands are sailing again across the ocean

Where the hand of opportunity draws tickets in a lottery

Postcards we're mailing of sky-blue skies and oceans

From rooms the daylight never sees, and lights don't glow on Christmas trees

And we dance to the music, and we dance

Thousands are sailing across the western ocean

Where the hand of opportunity draws tickets in a lottery

Where'er we go, we celebrate the land that makes us refugees

From fear of priests with empty plates

From guilt and weeping effigies

Still we dance to the music, and we dance