Welcome to The UNITED

The New Collosus

Not like the brazen giant of Greek fame,
With conquering limbs astride from land to land;
Here at our sea-washed, sunset gates shall stand
A mighty woman with a torch, whose flame
Is the imprisoned lightning, and her name
Mother of Exiles. From her beacon-hand
Glows world-wide welcome; her mild eyes command
The air-bridged harbor that twin cities frame.
“Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!” cries she
With silent lips. “Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

Collosus 2.0

Not sure what you are talking about
With all that Greek Collosus stuff
I suppose you went to college or something
In any case, back in OUR day
People used to carry torches, and rope
to get rid of undesirables
Of all colors, like why
do think we had the Alamo?
But anyway, keep all these tired, poor
Probably criminal elements
Back in your own country
Not sure why they’re here
maybe you didn’t like ’em neither
And now, here they are,
huddled at the border,
Homeless, sneaking in
Hey, we’ve got the search lamp on you
Razor-wire strung underwater
We got here first, there’s no room anymore
And the lights are off (America is closed).