| 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 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 Mister Cohen | 
| Dear old Times Square’s favorite 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 | 
| Where lights don’t glow on Christmas trees | 
| But 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 e’er we go, we celebrate | 
| The land that makes us refugees | 
| From fear of Priests with empty plates | 
| From guilt and weeping effigies | 
| And we dance |