paroles de chanson I Pity the Poor Immigrant - Christy Moore
I
pity
the
poor
immigrant
who
wishes
he'd
stayed
at
home
Uses
all
his
power
to
do
evil,
in
the
end
is
always
left
so
alone
That
man
who
with
his
fingers
cheats
who
lies
with
every
breath
Who
passionately
hates
his
life
and
likewise
fears
his
death
I
pity
the
poor
immigrant
whose
strength
is
spent
in
vain
Whose
heaven
is
like
ironsides,
and
whose
tears
are
like
the
rain
Who
eats
but
is
not
satisfied,
who
hears
but
does
not
see
Who
falls
in
love
with
wealth
itself
and
turns
his
back
on
me
I
pity
the
poor
immigrant
who
tramples
through
the
mud
Who
fills
his
mouth
with
laughing
and
who
builds
his
town
with
blood
Whose
vision
in
the
end
must
shatter
like
a
glass
I
pity
the
poor
immigrant
when
his
gladness
comes
to
pass
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