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BuiltWithNOF
READ THE NAMES
I was born in 1883 the border of Austria Hungary
With the summer dust and the winter rain and the snow comes down from the Russian plain
The slow brown river flowed away to whereabouts we couldn’t say
Age 20 years a soldiers pack, at 25 the plough horse track
 
I’d have seven children and a wife - I was marked for the peasant life
I never learned to write or read - the strength of my back was all I need
I never travelled far away - beasts to market back that day
We need to see your papers you - don’t be a gypsy or a Jew
 
Ch Read to me the names - longing to be free - the name is me
     Read to me the names - longing to be free - the name is me
 
The years would follow all the same - till my cousin’s letter came
Uncle read with shaking hand the words that came from a promised land
Somewhere beyond the sea beyond the mind of a lad like me
My heart it didn’t hesitate I would choose to emigrate
 
To my mother - shed no tears - back and rich in a few short years
As the train moved out I heard her cry - she could see right through my lie
A dusty village from a crowded train the land I’d never see again
A pack was all I had as mine - and a ticket for the Hamburg America Line
 
Ch
 
In the steerage decks we were crammed - families from every land
At night on the deck we would lie to get away from the babies cry
We stared for hours at the sea - wider than the plains of the old country
Europe slipping far behind the New World growing in my mind
 
There was Sean from Clare and a Russian Jew and a man whose name I never knew
Some they cried and some they stared - some they laughed and I was scared
We rushed on deck so we could see a torch held high of liberty
My cousin’s letter didn’t lie for the tall brown palaces touched the sky
 
Ch
 
The ship came in to New York town and the first class passengers walked on down
With hundreds more and the strangers three - on a boat for the isle of liberty
With trunk and cap and pipe and shawl they sent us in to the immigrant hall
With careful eye they watched us walk - beware of the man with the mark of chalk
 
  
And when at last my turn came the man he couldn’t say my name
But they never turned me away from Europe I was here to stay
The name that the family say is the one the man gave us that day
Life was hard but I made my way from the time I came to the USA
 

 

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