LYRIC

Mr. Wu works in the laundry, and his wife sews in the shop
And each and every wrinkle tells a tale
A survivor of the hard times, and a fighter all his life
But the twinkle in his eye has never failed
He puts a kettle on the table and he leans against the wall
He says excuse my English, but his words speak for us all

Because these hands have washed the clothes
These hands have served the food, heaven knows
My neck has felt the mob’s rope and it’s been behind barbed wire
My arms have laid down railroad track
My back has been for hire
And these hands have fought injustice
And this soul is still on fire

Mmm, but I’m still here
And I’m going strong
And I’m getting tire of proving I belong

Now Mrs. Gomez works the night shift in the pediatric ward
By day she cooks the meals for her own
New in the big city, she has never given up
And does her best to give her kids a home

There’s Mrs. Kim, who sells the produce on the corner of the square
The people pass by quickly, but we all know she’s there

And so the story goes on to another generation
A page, another chapter being turned
Tomorrow is the struggle we face in anticipation
And yesterday our lessons we have learned

Johnny, he’s a young boy who pumps gas to pay for school
His class is being cut back one by one
Now his father marched in Europe and John’s mother was in camp
And each shows off the battle scars they’ve won
Some nights you hear raised voices that come drifting through the wall
But each knows deep inside them that what binds them binds us all

Because our hands have washed the clothes
You know our hands have served the food, heaven knows
And our neck has felt the mob’s rope and it’s been behind barbed wire
Our arms have laid down railroad track
Our back has been for hire
And these hands will fight injustice
And our soul is still on fire

Mmm, but we’re still here
And we’re going strong
And we’re getting tired of proving we belong (x 6)

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