[Intro]
[Instrumental: mandolin and cello move gently in 12/8; low guitar remains absent.]

The harbor smelled of rope and rain;
The child pressed salt against the pane.
A copper figure held a flame;
No one aboard could say its name.

[Verse 1]
[Female mezzo: mother]

I pinned our papers in my sleeve
Beside the bread we could not leave.
Your father’s photograph was torn,
The corner soft from nights of storm.
A doctor watched you climb the stair,
A chalk mark brushed another’s hair.
You held my coat and counted three—
One step for you, one step for me.

[Pre-Chorus]
[Baritone harmony]

They asked our age, our trade, our town;
A stranger bent each answer down.
But in your palm I traced the key:
Remember what they cannot see.

[Chorus]
[Both]

Ellis Island elegy,
Salt on the sleeve, chalk on the knee,
A stranger breaks our name to three;
You whisper, “Keep the rest of me.”
Between the torch and quarantine,
We entered what we had not seen.

[Verse 2]
[Female mezzo: adult daughter]

We found one room above a store,
Six chairs, two beds, a splintered floor.
You washed the linen, late and fast;
I learned new verbs and hid the past.
At school they laughed when vowels stayed;
At home you spoke the words they weighed.
I answered English at the gate,
Then sang your language while we ate.

[Chorus]

[Both]
Ellis Island elegy,
Coal on the roof, steam in the street,
A teacher shortened what was me;
You set the missing sounds to beat.
Between the factory and machine,
We built what we had never seen.

[Interlude]
[Spoken ensemble]

Name.
Age.
Trade.
Health.
Money.
Sponsor.
Destination.
Next.

[Bridge]
[Mother and daughter]

A door can open like a test,
A welcome spoken without rest.
A nation may receive your hand
Yet keep your story contraband.
So carry both—the scar and key;
Do not exchange your past for me.

[Buildup]
[Both]

From dock to room,
From room to street,
From borrowed coat
To blistered feet,
We did not cross
To disappear.
We crossed to place
Our future here.

[Final Chorus]
[Ensemble]

Ellis Island elegy,
Salt on the sleeve, strength in the knee,
They broke our name, not memory;
You kept the missing rest of me.

[Coda]
[Ensemble]

Beyond the torch and quarantine,
We changed the city’s blood and dream.
No open door is truly free
If entry costs identity.

[Outro]
[Female mezzo]

The harbor dimmed.
The skyline grew.
I kept my name.
I carried you.