I decided to do this song as an instrumental mainly because the high notes in F are way beyond my range, but F also turned out to be a good key for working out an arrangement.
My response to those who would build walls and vilify people of foreign origin. "Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!" - Emma Lazarus
Some songs try really hard to be unwritten. This is one of them. It started as a sort of spooky Halloween song, then it crashed into a painting by Hieronymus Bosch, on it's way to becoming a surreal Robyn Hitchcock song. I wrestled it to the ground out behind the shed, but something had already been buried there, so I posted it here instead... Thanks for the challenge, pa! On to G!