When a man starts out with nothing,
Empty, but clean,
When a man starts to build a world,
Some were indentured hands
And the faith that is in his heart-
The strength there,
Adventurers and booty seekers,
The hand seeks tools to cut the wood,
A community of hands to help-
On the rich soil of the world,
On the rivers of the world.
The eyes see there materials for building,
See the difficulties, too, and the obstacles.
The mind seeks a way to overcome these obstacles.
To till the soil, and harness the power of the waters.
Thus the dream becomes not one mans dream alone,
But a community dream.
Not my dream alone, but our dream.
Not my world alone,
But your world and my world,
Belonging to all the hands who build.
To a new world, America!
Ships came from across the sea
Bringing the Pilgrims and prayer-makers,
Then the hand seeks other hands to help,
Slave men and slave masters, all new-
In little bands together,
Heart reaching out to heart,
Hand reaching out to hand,
They began to build our land.
Some were free hands
Hoping to find their freedom,
When a man starts out with his hands
Guarding in their hearts the seed of freedom,
Freedom.