The island it is silent now   But the ghosts still haunt the waves   And the torch lights up a famished man   Who fortune could not save      Did you work upon the railroads?   Did you rid the streets of crime?   Were your dollars from the white house?   Were they from the five and dime?      Did the old songs taunt or cheer you   And did they still make you cry?   Did you count the months and years   Or did your teardrops quickly dry?      "Ah, no", says he, "'twas not to be   On a coffin ship I came here   And I never even got so far   That they could change my name"      Thousands are sailing   Across the western ocean to a land of opportunity   That some of them will never see   Fortune prevailing across the western ocean   Their bellies full, their spirits free   They'll break the chains of poverty and they'll dance      In Manhattan's desert twilight   In the death of afternoon   We stepped hand in hand on Broadway   Like the first man on the moon      And "The Blackbird" broke the silence   As you whistled it so sweet   And in Brendan Behan's footsteps   I danced up and down the street      Then we said goodnight to Broadway   Giving it our best regards   Tipped our hats to Mister Cohan   Dear old Times Square's favorite bard      Then we raised a glass to JFK   And a dozen more besides   When I got back to my empty room   I suppose I must have cried      Thousands are sailing again   Across the ocean where the hand of opportunity   Draws tickets in a lottery, postcards we're mailing   Of sky-blue skies and oceans from rooms the daylight   Never sees where lights don't glow on Christmas trees   But we dance to the music and we dance      Thousands are sailing   Across the western ocean where the hand of opportunity   Draws tickets in a lottery, where e'er we go   We celebrate the land that makes us refugees   From fear of Priests with empty plates   From guilt and weeping effigies and we dance