The Ballad Of Sacco And Vanzetti, Part One

"Give to me your tired and your poor

Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free

The wretched refuse of your teeming shore

Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me."

Blessed are the persecuted

And blessed are the pure in heart

Blessed are the merciful

And blessed are the ones who mourn

The step is hard that tears away the roots

And says goodbye to friends and family

The fathers and the mothers weep

The children cannot comprehend

But when there is a promised land

The brave will go and others follow

The beauty of the human spirit

Is the will to try our dreams

And so the masses teemed across the ocean

To a land of peace and hope

But no one heard a voice or saw a light

As they were tumbled onto shore

And none was welcomed by the echo of the phrase

"I lift my lamp beside the golden door."

Blessed are the persecuted

And blessed are the pure in heart

Blessed are the merciful

And blessed are the ones who mourn

The Ballad Of Sacco And Vanzetti, Part Two

Father, yes, I am a prisoner

Fear not to relay my crime

The crime is loving the forsaken

Only silence is shame

And now I’ll tell you what’s against us

An art that’s lived for centuries

Go through the years and you will find

What’s blackened all of history

Against us is the law

With its immensity of strength and power

Against us is the law!

Police know how to make a man

A guilty or an innocent

Against us is the power of police!

The shameless lies that men have told

Will ever more be paid in gold

Against us is the power of the gold!

Against us is racial hatred

And the simple fact that we are poor

My father dear, I am a prisoner

Don’t be ashamed to tell my crime

The crime of love and brotherhood

And only silence is shame

With me I have my love, my innocence,

The workers, and the poor

For all of this I’m safe and strong

And hope is mine

Rebellion, revolution don’t need dollars

They need this instead

Imagination, suffering, light and love

And care for every human being

You never steal, you never kill

You are a part of hope and life

The revolution goes from man to man

And heart to heart

And I sense when I look at the stars

That we are children of life

Death is small

The Ballad Of Sacco And Vanzetti, Part Three

My son, instead of crying be strong

Be brave and comfort your mother

Don’t cry for the tears are wasted

Let not also the years be wasted

Forgive me, son, for this unjust death

Which takes your father from your side

Forgive me all who are my friends

I am with you, so do not cry

If mother wants to be distracted

From the sadness and the soulness

You take her for a walk

Along the quiet country

And rest beneath the shade of trees

Where here and there you gather flowers

Beside the music and the water

Is the peacefulness of nature

She will enjoy it very much

And surely you’ll enjoy it too

But son, you must remember

Do not use it all yourself

But down yourself one little step

To help the weak ones by your side

Forgive me, son, for this unjust death

Which takes your father from your side

Forgive me all who are my friends

I am with you, so do not cry

The weaker ones that cry for help

The persecuted and the victim

They are your friends

And comrades in the fight

And yes, they sometimes fall

Just like your father

Yes, your father and Bartolo

They have fallen

And yesterday they fought and fell

But in the quest for joy and freedom

And in the struggle of this life you’ll find

That there is love and sometimes more

Yes, in the struggle you will find

That you can love and be loved also

Forgive me all who are my friends

I am with you

I beg of you, do not cry

The Ballad of Sacco and Vanzetti. Here’s to you

Here’s to you, Nicola and Bart
Rest forever here in our hearts
The last and final moment is yours
That agony is your triumph