Give Me Your Tired, Your Poor Copyright © Maureen Kelly Verse 1 A piece of the streets, so you won't know their names Faces despairing can all look the same Remnants of spirits, collected to say Life couldn't treat me this way Just words we don't mean anymore Give me your tired your poor Verse 2 She sits on the sidewalk and quietly stares Her profile past anguish, that she could be there Too old to be desperate Too young yet to die And too late for wondering why Who are those words really for Give me your tired your poor Bridge If you close your eyes You won't make it go away You can close your eyes Knowing no way you're to blame Verse 3 Society's outcasts, the mentally strange Shut-up in asylums and out of our way But crazy costs money, and healing takes time You need cash to be out of your mind Just words we don't mean any more Give me your tired your poor Bridge Verse 1