There were all these millions of people who come through here And I see them all People of every color, shape and size And I think about all those people who did All of those that made it Made it to some distant shore, where when they come up the beach Or over a bridge or around to a road They start to walk And they start walking faster and faster Then they are running They made it They were at last home But don't get me wrong I'm the ghost of all those who never got to get there And the ghost of those who will never get there (Ellis)
