Francesco Pesce was a boy

In a village by the sea,

By the deep blue Mare Nostrum

On the isle of Sicily.

He was a dreamy headed boy.

As he walked with stick in hand

He wrote his name upon the beach

In the wet and shifting sand.

Oh I never knew Francesco

Nor got to hold his hand

And stroll along that ancient sea

With the shifting white sea sand.

His dreams were there to goad him on

So when he became a man

He bought passage on a steamer

And he left his native land.

He left behind Palermo

To sail so far away

To the promised land of freedom

To the good old USA.

I never met you brave young man

Nor got to shake your hand

And welcome you with open arms

To this strange and distant land.

Life wasn't just a piece of cake

As he soon would come to see.

The new world ran on greed and gold,

So while stuck in poverty,

He started running with the mob,

And there he found his niche.

He changed his name from Francesco

To simply "Frankie Fish".

I never saw you Frankie,

Nor looked into your eyes

To warn that promises of gold

Are usually just lies.

They finally put a hit on you,

On that cold and bitter day.

You died in your old tenement,

In a drab and dark hallway.

They gunned you down there Frankie boy,

As your life ebbed on the floor,

You heard your screaming wife and kids

Behind that hallway door.

I couldn't be there Frankie,

I hadn't yet been born,

To comfort your last passage

In that hallway dark and worn.

But hear me clearly Frankie Fish,

Wealth is not found in things

That gold can buy nor silver get,

But in what family brings.

Great Grandpas should be past their prime,

They shouldn't die at twenty nine

Pursuing some long forgotten wish.

I would have liked to meet you Frankie Fish.

I never knew you Grandpa Frank,

Nor sat upon your knee,

To hear your tales of boyhood's joys

And Palmero by the sea.