Includes all five tracks from the digital stream/download PLUS a secret bonus track. Packaged to deflect attention despite the glare of a hostile regime.
Includes unlimited streaming of [ samizdat-001 ] Thug Nation
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In 1939, a German ocean liner, the the MS St. Louis, set sail from Europe carrying more than 900 Jews fleeing the Nazis. It was headed for the Western Hemisphere. Havana, Cuba was the initial destination. The Cubans did not honor the passengers' visas and, after failing to find an alternate port to disembark its passengers, the boat was forced to return to Europe, where its passengers dispersed, many of whom wound up in the incinerators of Nazi concentration camps. The United States was as ignominiously unwelcoming as the Cubans. It's incredible that a country that boasts a monument that beckons the most needful to its bosom would turn its back on refugees.
I wrote this song during a previous wave of government, media and public attacks on immigrants and refugees. It was hardly a stretch to switch focus from a story of doomed German Jews to an account of the trials facing immigrants and refugees today.
So, here we are again, slamming the door on desperate fellow humans fleeing war zones and intolerance, attempting to find a better life in the U.S. as our forebears once did. Who besides racists and the propagandized honestly believes immigrants are the cause of their troubles and not convenient scapegoats that deflect attention from the real issues facing our citizenry? Which of America's vociferous immigrant bashers is going to take the jobs only immigrants do? Who among us was not the child of immigrants?
Looking for a sanctuary
Looking for a willing host
We're a floating cemetery
Three-quarters condemned and the unholy ghosts
Our hopes went up in the smoke
Of a Cuban cigar and a continent closed
So the spirits of the St. Louis sail on...
Are you aware we're here?
We've lived among you all these years
Do you want to drown us out?
Or do you only hear what you want to hear?
An S.O.S. or a suicide note
We're a message in a bottle that's forever afloat
As the Spirits of the St. Louis sail on...
Defend the border, build a fence
Secure your blessings of liberty
Feds, coyotes, Minutemen
Everybody's got it in for me
Give me your tired your poor,
Your huddled Masses yearning to breathe free
One day soon you'll have to say it in Spanish
"Yes we can! Se pueda! sí!"
Who's gonna clean your kitchen?
Who's gonna trim your lawn?
Who's gonna feed your children
While you sit in your salon?
See fences fall and the gates unhinge
You can't lock us out 'cos we're already in
And the spirits of the St. Louis sail on...