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, "it was 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 a 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 favourite 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 light skies and oceans From rooms the daylight never sees And lights don't glow on Christmas trees And we danced to the music And we danced
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 Still we dance to the music And we dance