In a town in southernmost Sicily
Lived a family too proud to be poor
In the year that fever took father away
They hastened for American shores
Now a mother and her son are standing in line
It's a cold day on Ellis Isle
And they look to the Statue of Liberty
For the boy we have American life
Ong is a Laotian refugee
He works in the audio trade
The smoke from flux is filling his lungs
He's earning minimum wage
Spending spare time down on
San Pablo ave
Once a week gets a woman for the night
And he writes home tales of prosperity
For the boy we have American life
Bob is an unemployed veteran
Born and bred in the South Bronx
He's living off the streets down in east L.A.
Residing in a cardboard box
Now he plays a little guit and he has a small dog
Searching for aluminum cans
And he hold on tight to his dignity
He was born into American life
Primus - American Life Lyrics
Primus - American Life Lyrics
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In a town in southernmost Sicily
Lived a family too proud to be poor
In the year that fever took father away
They hastened for American shores
Now a mother and her son are standing in line
It's a cold day on Ellis Isle
And they look to the Statue of Liberty
For the boy we have American life
Ong is a Laotian refugee
He works in the audio trade
The smoke from flux is filling his lungs
He's earning minimum wage
Spending spare time down on
San Pablo ave
Once a week gets a woman for the night
And he writes home tales of prosperity
For the boy we have American life
Bob is an unemployed veteran
Born and bred in the South Bronx
He's living off the streets down in east L.A.
Residing in a cardboard box
Now he plays a little guit and he has a small dog
Searching for aluminum cans
And he hold on tight to his dignity
He was born into American life
Lived a family too proud to be poor
In the year that fever took father away
They hastened for American shores
Now a mother and her son are standing in line
It's a cold day on Ellis Isle
And they look to the Statue of Liberty
For the boy we have American life
Ong is a Laotian refugee
He works in the audio trade
The smoke from flux is filling his lungs
He's earning minimum wage
Spending spare time down on
San Pablo ave
Once a week gets a woman for the night
And he writes home tales of prosperity
For the boy we have American life
Bob is an unemployed veteran
Born and bred in the South Bronx
He's living off the streets down in east L.A.
Residing in a cardboard box
Now he plays a little guit and he has a small dog
Searching for aluminum cans
And he hold on tight to his dignity
He was born into American life
Writer: LES CLAYPOOL, REID L. III LALONDE, TIMOTHY W. ALEXANDER
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Downtown Music Publishing
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Downtown Music Publishing
Performed By: Primus
From Album: Sailing the Seas of Cheese
Language: English
Length: 4:31
Written by: LES CLAYPOOL, REID L. III LALONDE, TIMOTHY W. ALEXANDER
Year: 1991