I Pity The Poor Immigrant

I pity the poor immigrant
 Who wishes he would've stayed home
 Who uses all his power to do evil, but
 In the end, is always left so alone
 That man whom with his fingers cheats
 And whom lies with every breath
 Who passionately hates his life
 And likewise, fears his death
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 I pity the poor immigrant
 Whose strength is spent in vain
 Whose heaven is like Ironsides
 Whose tears, they are like rain
 Who eats, but is not satisfied
 Who hears, but does not see
 Who falls in love with wealth itself
 And turns his back on me
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 I pity the poor immigrant
 Who tramples through the mud
 Who fills his mouth with laughing, and
 Who builds his town with blood
 Whose visions in the final end
 Must shatter like a glass
 I pity the poor immigrant
 When his gladness comes to pass