The Smuggler’s Inn
I run the Smuggler’s Inn.
It’s full of immigrants sneaking across the border.
I know I’m walking on a line that’s thin.
I’m called a people hoarder.
I give them free food.
I give them a place to sleep.
And I put them in the mood
to take that final leap.
I give the children toys to play.
I counsel them about the law.
I know I could get arrested any day,
it’s the luck of the draw.
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