From the recording Live at the Corbin Theater
Lyrics
Come To The Land (capo up 5 in C)
G G/C C G G/C D
Storm in a bottle. Shine on his shoes.
Carlos meets the Governor. Paying all those dues.
Ink on the paper. Now the Law of the Land.
(But the) tongue of his fathers, this man will never understand.
Em C Am D
There’s no Statue of Liberty where the Armadillo play.
Can’t you hear the angels calling to Maria and Jose?
G D C D
Come to the land where freedom is so frail.
Come to the land where the angels sit in jail.
refrain
G G/C G G/C G G/C D
Come to the land. Come to the land. Come to the land.
Jack is Immigration. The Border looks so wide.
There’s no Ellis Island dignity, just a lot of room to hide.
There’s a legal way to do it, brown, white or black.
But he hates to see the faces of those he sends back.
There is no fence or rifle that is stronger than this lure.
Can’t you hear the angels trading dollars for a cure?
Come to the land where medicine is magic.
Come to the land where the angels can’t afford it.
refrain
Turban on his forehead. Sand in his blood.
Dr. Ahmed mops the fellowship hall. Patience against mud.
His English is still broken. His spirit is like steel.
He dreams of a little practice, another chance to heal.
But when people see his face, the TV headshots come.
Their enemy within, their hearts beat like a drum.
All they see is Palestinians cheering 9/11.
Men strapping on dynamite as their passport into heaven.
Come to the land where no man serves a king.
Come to the land where the angels are waitressing.
Refrain
Words and music by David B. Hakan
© 2005 All Rights Reserved 3-15-2005