copper tears run green
but what have we to envy
our arms were outstretched
not to beg for more
but to welcome all
who wanted the same
and we held the lamp high
a beacon calling those home
who wanted the same
and they came and became we
a people who wanted the same
and who could be called the same
in all our facets of cultures and languages
but are we forgetting ourselves
do we no longer wish to hold the lamp high
on shores of tyranny and hate
will we forget our sacred copper scripture
forged in the burning hearts
of those of long ago who wanted the same
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