Debt Assemblies

I am the poor white, fooled and pushed
apart, I am the Negro bearing slavery’s scars.
I am the red man driven from the land, I am the immigrant
clutching the hope I seek — And finding only
the same old stupid plan of dog eat dog, of mighty
crush the weak.

O’ let America be America
again — The land that has never been yet
— And yet must BE — The land where
every man is free. The land that’s mine —
The poor man’s, Indian’s, Negro’s, ME —
Who made America, whose sweat and blood,
whose faith and pain, Whose hand at the
foundry, whose plow in the rain, Must bring
back our mighty dream again.

O’ yes, I say it plain, America was never America to me,
And yet I swear this oath — america
will be!