| My father came from Japan in 1905 |
| He was fifteen when he immigrated from Japan |
| He, he… he worked until he was able to buy this |
| patch |
| And build a store |
| Let me tell you the story in the form of a dream, |
| I don’t know why I have to tell it but I know what it |
| means, |
| Close your eyes, just picture the scene, |
| As I paint it for you, it was World War II, |
| When this man named Kenji woke up, |
| Ken was not a soldier, |
| He was just a man with a family, who owned a store in |
| LA, |
| That day, he crawled out of bed like he always did, |
| Bacon and eggs to wife and kids, |
| He lived on the second floor of a little store he |
| ran, |
| He moved to LA from Japan, |
| They called him 'Immigrant,' |
| In Japanese, he’d say he was called «iisei» |
| That meant 'First Generation in the United States', |
| When everyone was afraid of the Germans, afraid of the |
| «Japs», |
| But most of all afraid of a homeland attack, |
| And that morning when Ken went out on the doormat, |
| His world went black 'cause, |
| Right there; front page news, |
| Three weeks before 1942, |
| «Pearl Harbor’s Been Bombed and the Japs Are Comin',» |
| Pictures of soldiers dyin' and runnin', |
| Ken knew what it would lead to, |
| Just like he guessed, the President said, |
| the evil Japanese in our home country would be locked |
| away |
| They gave Ken, a couple of days, |
| To get his whole life packed in two bags, |
| Just two bags, couldn’t even pack his clothes, |
| Some folks didn’t even have a suitcase, to pack |
| anything in, |
| So two trash bags was all they gave them, |
| When the kids asked mum «Where we goin'?» |
| Nobody even knew what to say to them, |
| Ken didn’t wanna lie; he said «The US is lookin' for |
| spies», |
| So we have to live in a place called Manzanar, |
| Where a lot of Japanese people are," |
| Stop it don’t look at the gunmen, |
| You don’t wanna get the soldiers wonderin', |
| If you gonna run or not, |
| 'Cause if you run then you might get shot, |
| Other than that try not to think about it, |
| Try not to worry 'bout it bein' so crowded, |
| Someday we’ll get out, someday, someday. |
| As soon as the war broke out |
| The F.B.I. came and they just come to the house and |
| «You have to come» |
| «All the Japanese have to go» |
| They took Mr. Nii |
| The people couldn’t understand |
| Why they had to take him because he’s just innocent |
| laborer |
| So now they’re in a town with soldiers surroundin' |
| them, |
| Every day, every night looked down at them, |
| From watchtowers up on the wall, |
| Ken couldn’t really hate them at all; |
| They were just doing their job and, |
| He wasn’t gonna make any problems, |
| He had a little garden with vegetables and fruits |
| that |
| He gave to the troops in a basket his wife made, |
| But in the back of his mind, he wanted his families |
| life saved, |
| Prisoners of war in their own damn country, |
| What for? |
| Time passed in the prison town, |
| He wondered if it live it down when they were free, |
| The only way out was joinin' the army, |
| And supposedly, some men went out for the army, signed |
| on, |
| And ended up flyin' to Japan with a bomb, |
| That 15 kiloton blast put an end to the war pretty |
| fast, |
| Two cities were blown to bits; the end of the war came |
| quick, |
| Ken got out, big hopes of a normal life, with his kids |
| and his wife but |
| when they got back to their home, |
| What they saw made them feel so alone, |
| These people had trashed every room, |
| Smashed in the windows and bashed in the doors, |
| Written on the walls and the floor, |
| «Japs not welcome anymore.» |
| And Kenji dropped both of his bagson the sides and |
| just stood outside, |
| He, looked at his wife without words to say, |
| She looked back at him wiped the tears away, |
| And, said «Someday we’ll be okay, someday,» |
| Now the names have been changed, but the story’s |
| true, |
| My family was locked up back in '42, |
| My family was there it was dark and damp, |
| And they called it an internment camp |
| When we first got back from camp… uhh |
| It was… pretty… pretty bad |
| I, I remember my husband said |
| «Oh we’re gonna stay til least» |
| Then my husband died before they close the camp. |