There ain't no hope for the poor in this country no more I have been working since my hands were able I used to go to church on Sunday Now I'm working for that overtime pay Its the only thing that can keep the Taxman away All of my friends all of my family This whole forsaken country Has been sold off to the rich man's unholy gains There ain't no hope for the poor in this country no more I have been working since my hands were able My grandad spent his life Working on the same factory line When it came time to retire They gave him his pension Nowadays they expect you To break your own back And when you start slowing down They replace you with a younger man Give me your tired give me your poor Give me your huddled masses yearning for more And well put em to work for crumbs On our factory floor then show em the door