I see your slippery red sidewalks
Red with the blood of children
Red with the blood of the children of Emerica who still work for pennies
Although you claim to have laws
Against it.

And there are laws that protect this great land
And protect you and your capitalist friends
Who sit in high-rise buildings
On the slippery streets on New York City
And watch children die at your hands
To make the extra dollar

These children that die
We all know them as students, farmers, the poor,
Children that live in these ghettos,
Children that wait in your poorhouses,
Children that die in your streets,

They wait for their chance to rise
Rise like the tall skyscrapers in which you make your home,
You’re living,
And most regrettably your life

And unlike you
Oh, great, illustrious Emerica,
These same children can see
Can feel,
Can taste,
Can touch,
Everything around them

And just like you
They cannot live
or die

Oh Emerica,
I love you.