| Don’t pity this poor immigrant
|
| My eyes were open when I caught the boat
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| All I wanted was your shelter
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| And maybe just a little hope
|
| But you turned your anger on me
|
| For the courage that you lack
|
| I don’t want your half assed freedom
|
| You can have the whole deal back
|
| So now I’ll tell you something
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| Let’s get this straight from the start
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| Don’t call me Harp
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| Don’t call me Harp
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| You said: «Bring me your poor and destitute
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| And I can kick them when they’re down»
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| Cause there’s always enough misery
|
| And we’ll be sure to share it round
|
| Now I’ll turn my anger on you
|
| For the decency you lack
|
| For the morals you fail to uphold
|
| Your cocaine, crack and smack
|
| To the land that wears it’s heart up front
|
| I’m screaming from the back
|
| Don’t call me Harp
|
| Don’t call me Harp
|
| And the ghettos almost full now
|
| It’s time for trash to move uptown
|
| And the sight of all those beggars
|
| On the streets must really get you down
|
| Soon they’ll turn their anger on you
|
| For the promises you broke
|
| For all the lies you told them
|
| As their dreams went up in smoke
|
| And I feel I stand among them
|
| As I shout this from the heart
|
| Don’t call me Harp
|
| Don’t call me Harp
|
| You built your land on principles
|
| Decent, brave and true
|
| I find it hard to understand
|
| Just what went wrong with you
|
| Don’t call me Harp
|
| Don’t call me Harp
|
| (Rpt, 1st Verse) |