(will be red instead of green holding up an AR-15 instead of a torch)

Give me your bloodied
Your poor dead souls
Your huddled masses
Crouching in fear
On the concentration Camp's floor
Become someone's
Wretched refuge teeming
By the score
Send these now to me the Homeless
Bullet riddled  bodies lying on the floor
I lift up my spotlight
To see the young and the Old lying in the door