Songs about Immigrants

SONGS
about
IMMIGRANTS

Song:	Written by:	Singer
Kilkelly Ireland	Peter and Steve Jones	Peter Jones

Listen

Kilkelly, Ireland, 1860, my dear and loving son John
Your good friend the schoolmaster Pat McNamara's So good as to write these words down
Your brothers have all gone to find work in England
The house is so empty and sad
The crop of potatoes is sorely infected
A third to a half of them bad.
And your sister Bridget and Patrick O'Donnell
Are going to be married in June
Mother says not to work on the railroad
And be sure to come on home soon

Kilkelly, Ireland, 1870, my dear and loving son John
Hello to your missus and to your four children
May they grow healthy and strong
Michael has got in a wee bit of trouble
I suppose that he never will learn
Because of the dampness there's no turf to speak of
And now there's nothing to burn
And Bridget is happy you named a child for her
You know she's got six of her own.
You say you found work but you don't say
what kind
Oh when will you be coming home?

Kilkelly, Ireland, 1880, dear Michael and John, my sons
I'm sorry to give you the very sad news
Your Mummy passed on
We buried her down at the church in Kilkelly
Your brothers and Bridget were there
You don't have to worry, she died very quickly
Remember her in your prayers.
And it's so good to hear that Michael's returning
With money he's sure to buy land
For the crop has been poor and the people
are selling
At any price they can

Kilkelly, Ireland, 1890, my dear and loving son John
I suppose that I must be close on to eighty
It's thirty years since you've gone
Because of all of the money you've sent me
I'm still living out on my own
Our Michael has built himself a fine house
And Brigid's daughters have grown
Thank you for sending your family picture
They're lovely young women and men.
You say that you might even come for a visit
What joy to see you again

Kilkelly, Ireland, 1892, my dear brother John
I'm sorry I didn't write sooner
To tell you your dad passed on
He was living with Bridget, she says he was cheerful
And healthy right down to the end
Ah, you should have seen him play with
The grandchildren of Pat McNamara, your friend
And we buried him alongside of Mother
Down at the Kilkelly churchyard
He was a strong and a feisty old man
Considering his life was so hard
And it's funny the way he kept talking about you
He called for you in the end
Oh, why don't you think about coming to visit
We'd love to see you again.

The crops are all in and the peaches are rott’nin’
The oranges are stuck in their creosote dumps
They’re flying’em back to that Mexico border
To pay all their wages to wade back again

Goodbye to Juan, goodbye Rosalita
Adios, mi amigo, Jesus an’ Maria
You won’t have a name when you ride the big airplane
And all they will call you will be deportee

My father’s own father, he waded that river
They took all the money he made in his life
My brothers and sisters come working the fruit trees
An’ they rode on the trucks till they took down and died

Well, some are illegal and some are not wanted
Our work contract’s out and we’ve got to move on
Six hundred miles to that Mexico border
They chase us like outlaws, like rustlers, like thieves

We died in your hills and we died on your deserts
We died in your valleys, we died on your plains
We died ‘neath your trees and we died in your bushes
Both sides of that river, we died just the same

The sky plane caught fire over Los Gatos canyon
Like a fireball of lightnin’ and shook all our hills
Who are all these friends, all scattered like dry leaves
The radio says they are just deportees

Is this the best way we can grow our big orchards
Is this the best way we can grow our good fruit
To fall like dry leaves and rot on my topsoil
An’ be known by no name except deportee

Listen

When I first came to this land
I was not a wealthy man
Then I got myself a shack
I did what I could
I called my shack "Break My Back"
Still the land was sweet and good
I did what I could

When I first came to this land
I was not a wealthy man
Then I got myself a cow
I did what I could
I called my cow, "No Milk Now"
I called my shack "Break My Back"
Still the land was sweet and good
I did what I could.

When I first came to this land
I was not a wealthy man
Then I got myself a horse
I did what I could
I called my horse, "Lame of Course"
I called my cow, "No Milk Now"
I called my shack "Break My Back"
Still the land was sweet and good
I did what I could.

When I first came to this land
I was not a wealthy man
Then I got myself a wife
I did what I could
I called my wife "Joy of My Life"
I called my horse, "Lame of Course"
I called my cow ,"No Milk Now"
I called my shack "Break My Back"
Still the land was sweet and good
I did what I could.

When I first came to this land
I was not a wealthy man
Then I got myself a son
I did what I could
I called my son "My Work's Done"
I called my wife "Joy of My Life"
I called my horse, "Lame of Course"
I called my cow ,"No Milk Now"
I called my shack "Break My Back"
Still the land was sweet and good
I did what I could.

Sound from: http://www.jhk.mb.ca/music/musichomepage.htm
Grade 3, Joseph H. Kerr School, Snow Lake, Manitoba, Canada
Words adapted from: http://www.songsforteaching.com/index.html
Songs for Teaching -- Using Music to Promote Learning

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CD:	Singers:
Remembering Sacco and Vanzetti	Charlie King and Karen Brandow

http://store.charlieking.org

From the CD Remembering Sacco & Vanzetti
Vaguely Reminiscent Sounds

(used by permission)

Nicola Sacco and Bartolomeo Vanzetti were Italian immigrant workers who tried to help other workers and make things better for them. Sacco was a shoemaker with a wife and two sons. Vanzetti was a fish seller. They lived in the Boston area. They didn't think the government and the United States system were good for workers and they tried to organize workers change things. At the same time, during and right after World War I, people were afraid and worried about foreigners and about people who wanted to change the system. Around that time, the doors started to close to immigrants.

In 1920, Sacco and Vanzetti were arrested by the police in Brockton for murder during a robbery. People all over the world knew about the trial and they understood that they did kill anyone. They saw that there was not a fair trial, but at the end the court decided that Sacco and Vanzetti killed the man and should die in the electric chair. For several years people tried to get the court to change the decision. Even the man who probably did kill the person in the robbery said he was in it and Sacco and Vanzetti were not. But the judge, Judge Webster Thayer, would not listen. On August 23, 1927 at midnight they were killed in the electric chair. A few years ago, Governor Dukakis told Sacco's grandson and the rest of the world that they never got a fair trial and cleared their names.

Song:	Written by:	Singers:
Two Good Arms	Charlie King	Charlie King and Karen Brandow

Who will remember, the hands so white and fine
That touched the finest linen that poured the finest wine?
Who will remember, the gentle words they spoke
To name the lives of two good men, a nuisance or a joke

And all who know these two good arms
Know I never had to rob or kill
I can live by my own two hands and live well
And all my life I have struggled
To rid the earth of all such crimes.

Who will remember Judge Webster Thayer
One hand on the gavel, the other resting on the chair.
Who will remember the hateful words he said
Speaking to the living in the language of the dead.

All who know these two good arms
Know I never had to rob or kill
I can live by my own two hands and live well
And all my life I have struggled
To rid the earth of all such crimes.

Who will remember the hand upon the switch
That took the lives of two good men
In the service of the rich?
Who will remember the one that gave the nod
Or the chaplain standing near at hand
To invoke the name of God

And all who know these two good arms,
Know I never had to rob or kill,
I can live by my own two hands and live well,
And all my life I have struggled,
To rid the earth of all such crimes.

We will remember this good shoemaker,
we will remember this poor fish peddlar,
We will remember all the strong arms and hands,
That never once found justice in the hands that rule this land.

And all who knew these two good men,
Knew they never had to rob or kill,
Each had lived by his own two hands and lived well,
And all their lives they had struggled,
To rid the earth of all such crimes
And all our lives we must struggle,
To rid the earth of all such crimes.

Words from:
http://www.trump.net.au/~glazfolk/songs/hands.htm

The Peter Hicks Web Site

http://www.geocities.com/CapitolHill/7840/lyrics.htm

Canadian Union of Postal Workers, Solidarity Lyrics

Listen

"Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name Mother of Exiles.
From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome;
Her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
"Keep ancient lands, your storied pomp!"
Cries she, with silent lips.

"Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

Song:	Written by:	Singer:
My Name Joe	David Massengill	David Massengill

Song:	Written by:	Music by:	Singer:
Deportee	Woody Guthrie	Martin Hoffman	Billy Bragg

Titles:	Written by:
Two Good Men and other Ballads of Sacco & Vanzetti	Woody Guthrie http://www.rollingstone.com/reviews/cd/review.asp?aid=48726&cf=

Song:	Poem written by:	Music by:	Singer:
Give Me Your Tired, Your Poor	Emma Lazarus	Mormon Tabernacle Choir	Dana Talley

Titles:	Written by:
Readings Remembering Sacco & Vanzetti	Charlie King and Karen Brandow

Song:	Written by:	Singers:
When I First Came to This Land	Traditional	3rd grade children