| Grandma sailed the Irish coast
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| When she was barely thirteen
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| She was young enough
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| To believe in her dreams
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| Working at a sweatshop
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| Down on Bleeker Street
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| Staring out the window
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| She could see Miss Liberty
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| The price didn’t seem too steep
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| She believed in a nation
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| She believed in love
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| She believed in loyalty
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| And she put her fate in the hands of God
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| I believed in a nation
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| That’s got more than land and water
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| I hope, I have the simple faith
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| The silent strength of the immigrant’s daughter
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| She could not be halted
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| By famine or disease
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| She married America
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| And she scrubbed it on her knees
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| Fiercely devoted
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| To who was yet to be
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| She gladly gave her reverence
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| To the high authority
|
| The price didn’t seem too steep
|
| She believed in a nation
|
| She believed in love
|
| She believed in loyalty
|
| And she put her fate in the hands of God
|
| I believed in a nation
|
| That’s got more than land and water
|
| I hope, I have the simple faith
|
| The silent strength of the immigrant’s daughter
|
| I look at the photographs
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| On my naked wall
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| The gallery of legacy
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| Has such a haunting call
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| Falling down on my knees
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| The calling comes to me
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| I’m gonna run to the land of the living
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| And take everyone that I can with me
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| I believe in a nation
|
| I believe in love
|
| I believe in loyalty
|
| And I put my fate in the hands of God
|
| I believe in a nation
|
| That’s got more than land and water
|
| I hope, I have the simple faith
|
| The silent strength of the Immigrant’s daughter
|
| I hope, I have that simple faith |