[Intro] [Instrumental: accordion repeats three short notes; drums strike like factory machinery.] The whistle cut the morning thin; A hundred coats were counted in. The windows locked, the stairwell turned, The foreman watched the fabric burn. [Verse 1] [Baritone] A mother stitched a collar straight, Her daughter watched the factory gate. A miner coughed beneath the seam, A cook slept standing by the steam. They crossed an ocean, crossed a line, Then sold twelve hours at a time. The poster promised bread and worth; The boarding room charged half the earth. [Pre-Chorus] [Ensemble] Lose the accent, lose the name, Feed your difference to the flame. Enter hungry, leave uncertain— Smile behind the factory curtain. [Chorus] [Both] The melting pot was a furnace; It took our names for coal. It fed the mills with hunger, Then taxed the tongue and soul. But every spark learned where the turn is— The melting pot was a furnace. [Verse 2] [Call and Response: female ensemble and baritone] One language filled the packing floor, Another waited by the door. A joke was passed through five replies; The foreman heard a union rise. The baker, porter, maid and smith Compared the wage, the scar, the shift. What owners called divided hands Began to share demands and plans. [Pre-Chorus] [Ensemble] Keep the accent, keep the name, Turn the furnace on the claim That every stranger must be burned Before belonging can be earned. [Chorus] [Both] The melting pot was a furnace; It took our names for coal. It fed the mills with hunger, Then taxed the tongue and soul. But every spark learned where the turn is— The melting pot was a furnace. [Instrumental] [Accordion and low guitar play interlocking sixteenth-note figures over tom-heavy drums.] [Bridge] [Call and Response] [Foreman] Who gave you work? [Workers] Our hands gave work its worth. [Foreman] Who gave you bread? [Workers] We baked the bread you sold. [Foreman] Who gave you shelter? [Workers] We raised each beam and berth. You owned the walls— We built the world. [Break] [Unison] Not melted. Not erased. Not grateful To be displaced. We changed the city. The city changed us. No furnace made One people from dust. [Final Chorus] [Ensemble] The melting pot was a furnace; It took our names for coal. It fed the mills with hunger, But could not melt us whole. [Coda] [Ensemble] Every spark discovered purpose, Every tongue survived the furnace. We were not fuel for someone’s soul— We made the heat; we kept control. [Outro] [Workers] The whistle blew. The belts stood still. A hundred names Walked from the mill.