I tell you I hate those concrete jungles
Where nothing grows and nothing stands,
Just a long forgotten memory of long past
Because of that thing we call name brand.
Where money always out weighs demand
And empty dreams look shut down too,
That invisible picture suddenly does appear
A glass crystal clear slight windless view.
Where eyes have had all of their pleasure
Knowing hard working hands stayed dirty,
Sewing the threads that made America free
That strong back bone that made money thirsty.
We worked our willing fingers to the bones
When they were not all a bed of roses,
But that big political dollar did nothing but fuss
So Mexico was our new home of concrete noses.
So that Wall that everyone is trying to build
That's suppose to protect our best interest,
Not long after our jobs climbed over the Wall
Magically after that concrete lots paid us a visit.
If that Wall can't keep our American jobs safe
Then how will we get our peace of mind,
For us Americans can't just climb that Wall
And get our jobs back from the Mexico side.
