Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Let America Be America Again, artist - Marcus Miller. Album song «Маршалл», in the genre Музыка из фильмов
Date of issue: 28.09.2017
Record label: Warner
Song language: English
Let America Be America Again |
Let America be America again |
Let it be the dream it used to be |
Let it be the pioneer on the plain |
Seeking a home where he himself is free |
(America never was America to me.) |
Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed— |
Let it be that great strong land of love |
Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme |
That any man be crushed by one above |
(It never was America to me.) |
O, let my land be a land where Liberty |
Is crowned with no false patriotic wreath |
But opportunity is real, and life is free |
Equality is in the air we breathe |
(There's never been equality for me |
Nor freedom in this «homeland of the free.») |
Say, who are you that mumbles in the dark? |
And who are you that draws your veil across the stars? |
I am the poor white, fooled and pushed apart |
I am the Negro bearing slavery’s scars |
I am the red man driven from the land |
I am the immigrant clutching the hope I seek-- |
And finding only the same old stupid plan |
Of dog eat dog, of mighty crush the weak |
I am the young man, full of strength and hope |
Tangled in that ancient endless chain |
Of profit, power, gain, of grab the land! |
Of grab the gold! |
Of grab the ways of satisfying need! |
Of work the men! |
Of take the pay! |
Of owning everything for one’s own greed! |
I am the farmer, bondsman to the soil |
I am the worker sold to the machine |
I am the Negro, servant to you all |
I am the people, humble, hungry, mean-- |
Hungry yet today despite the dream |
Beaten yet today--O, Pioneers! |
I am the man who never got ahead |
The poorest worker bartered through the years |
Yet I’m the one who dreamt our basic dream |
In the Old World while still a serf of kings |
Who dreamt a dream so strong, so brave, so true |
That even yet its mighty daring sings |
In every brick and stone, in every furrow turned |
That’s made America the land it has become |
O, I’m the man who sailed those early seas |
In search of what I meant to be my home-- |
For I’m the one who left dark Ireland’s shore |
And Poland’s plain, and England’s grassy lea |
And torn from Black Africa’s strand I came |
To build a «homeland of the free.» |
The free? |
Who said the free? |
Not me? |
Surely not me? |
The millions on relief today? |
The millions shot down when we strike? |
The millions who have nothing for our pay? |
For all the dreams we’ve dreamed |
And all the songs we’ve sung |
And all the hopes we’ve held |
And all the flags we’ve hung |
The millions who have nothing for our pay-- |
Except the dream that’s almost dead today |
O, let America be America again-- |
The land that never has been yet-- |
And yet must be--the land where every man is free |
The land that’s mine--the poor man’s, Indian’s, Negro’s, ME-- |
Who made America |
Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain |
Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain |
Must bring back our mighty dream again |
Sure, call me any ugly name you choose-- |
The steel of freedom does not stain |
From those who live like leeches on the people’s lives |
We must take back our land again |
America! |
O, yes |
I say it plain |
America never was America to me |
And yet I swear this oath-- |
America will be! |
Out of the rack and ruin of our gangster death |
The rape and rot of graft, and stealth, and lies |
We, the people, must redeem |
The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers |
The mountains and the endless plain-- |
All, all the stretch of these great green states-- |
And make America again! |
Make America again! |
Let America be America again |