In every brid stone, in every furrourned

        ts made America t has bee.

        O, Im those early seas

        In searc I meant to be my home--

        For Im t dark Irelands shore,

        And Polands plain, and Englands grassy lea,

        And torn from Black Africas strand I came

        to build a ";

        the free?

        me?

        Surely not me? today?

        t down wrike?

        thing for our pay?

        For all the dreams weve dreamed

        And all the songs weve sung

        And all the hopes weve held

        And all the flags weve hung,

        thing for our pay--

        Except ts almost dead today.

        O, let America be America again--

        t never --

        A must be--the land where every man is free.

        ts mihe poor mans, Indians, Negros, ME--

        ho made America,

        and blood, ain,

        the rain,

        Must bring baighty dream again.

        Sure, call me any ugly name you choose--

        teel of freedom does not stain.

        From the peoples lives,

        e must take back our land again,

        America!

        O, yes,

        I say it plain,

        Ameriever o me,

        A I sh--

        America will be!

        Out of ter death,

        t of graft, and stealth, and lies,

        e, t redeem

        ts, the rivers.

        tains and the endless plain--

        All, all tretc green states--

        And make America again!
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