song Dear I hear that beer flows through the faucets all night long There's treasure for the taking, for any hard working man Who will make his home in the American Land The McNicholas, the Posalski's, the Smiths, Zerillis, too The Blacks, the Irish, Italians, the Germans and the Jews Come across the water a thousand miles from home With nothin in their bellies but the fire down below They died building the railroads worked to bones and skin They died in the fields and factories names scattered in the wind They died to get here a hundred years ago they're still dyin now The hands that built the country were always trying to keep down There's diamonds in the sidewalk the gutters lined in song Dear I hear that beer flows through the faucets all night long There's treasure for the taking, for any hard working man Who will make his home in the American Land Who will make his home in the American Land Who will make his home in the American Land