And why does it seem,
This American Dream,
That all is governed
By wealth’s bite, by gold’s gleam?

And the foreigners sing,
And they laugh and they cling –
That they don’t need to be
This American Dream.

And the poor people beam
Their dirty smiles gleam
That they don’t need to be
This American Dream.

This American Dream,
“All who buy, they are free,
All who have, they have glee,
And oh!
…How I wish…
…How I wish…
…It were me.”