I drive past the dirt houses

Each one passes by into distant memory

But I can't forget the people living there

In tattered clothes and crumbling homes.

I am rich in opportunity

They are poor in hope.

Where they are is where they'll stay

No hope of moving forward

Nowhere to move toward.

But me,

Freedom is presented to me in a golden box.

I can choose between a thousand lives

And only because I live on the other side...

On the other side of the border.

This barrier which so cruely determines fates

And sentences lives

This fine line between prospertity and poverty

Between bliss and gloom

Between life and death

Is what I would change

This Barrier I would make into a bridge

To make dreams into reality

And give flight to hope

I would change this Barrier

Into an Open Door