Allison Scola

Lyrics

Marco the barber cut Wall Streeter’s hair
In his shop on East 81st Street
Monday to Saturday dawn until dusk
He snipped away

He’d arrived without papers in late ‘fifty-two
Leaving his war-torn homeland
“I will return,” he told his sisters
Then sailed away

For an American life: a house filled with children
A beautiful wife who loves him
He’d work everyday to make a good living
And return someday, return to Sicilia

Marco met Rosa through the priest at his church
They married just a year later
They bought a small home
And each day he drove to the city

His kids went to school while he trimmed and shaved
Customers looking for service
He’d clean them up nice
And send them away better men

An American life: a house filled with children
A beautiful wife who loves him
As each year flew by, he worked for their living
Yet his dream never died – his dream of Sicilia

His children have grown and all moved away
Each one seeking his fortune
Marco looked up catching his own reflection
He was all grey

He remembered the day when he said goodbye
The turquoise sea shining with sunlight
“I will return,” he told his sisters
As they cried

An American life: a house without children
A beautiful wife who loves him
As each year flew by, he’d worked for their living
Yet his dream never died – his dream of Sicilia

The peak of Mt. Etna glistened with snow
Olive trees danced on the hillside
Marco met tears
As Rosa laughed with his sisters