Two little ingrates

Blowing hard and cold

By our side of Mexico

Look like Ted and Marco

But Raf and Mario 

Running from harm and hurt

Crossed the lines to refuge

Of the  shinning city on the hill

Welcome to our country

Eat, rest and work

When you get a few

Welcome you your own sons

Yes the sons came a few

Oh welcome like your dads

Now take our Mic and talk

That you may bless the land

Seal the lines they wailed

Guard  it  like a vault

See the kids the question

Refuse them they  vow

In this Goodwill sobs

Weeping in the dark

How can Ted and Marco

Poopy the lines they cross