Second chances

 Immigration, immigration

Getting like it's hard to mention

You ask somebody where they're from

It's like they've been hit with stun gun

I'm not trying to exclude you from my world view

I'm not trying to categorize you

But I like to know just who I'm speaking to

So don't get offended if I ask you to answer true

What's the problem? What are you hiding from?

Is it the dreaded word immigration?

I can say where I was born, that means I know where

I'm from

Though it sounds absurd

It matters if you're an Afghan, Somalian or Kurd

Sunni, Czech, Lithuanian, Polish or Bulgarian 

But only because it's culture is different

Isn't it worse to pretend we're all the same

And lie about where we're born

So we can get given the password

To enter a city, a country of gold,

But you know it's only this way

Because we haven't entirely sold

Our souls

Of course the massive corporations have though

They've been buying up

Our rights to life

They control our old age accommodation

Market forces

Forced Grandma into a home

Capitalism made your parents divorce

Getting rich, and being well

Became the only Christmas to sell

And such things as faith and honesty

Got thrown out with the dishwater

Into the frozen sea of commerciality

Some place, perhaps there's a place

Where being a family means

Being loved, its rules

Are above the government's laws

Regardless of citizenship

Which is just a passport key

It's just a way of saving a life

From poverty into prosperity

Prosperity, but no family

Just a waltz with the dollar

Just a Sterling march

A glide around the ballroom

of Second chances

Taking a spin

On the wheel of life and love

But you must forget

First what you used to have