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1. |
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Workers of the world, awaken!
Break your chains; demand your rights! All the wealth you make is taken
By exploiting parasites.
Shall you kneel in deep submission From your cradles to your graves?
Is the height of your ambition
To be good and willing slaves?
Arise, ye pris’ners of starvation! Fight for your own emancipation! Arise ye slaves of every nation
In One Union Grand!
Our little ones for bread are crying, And millions are from hunger dying. The end the means is justifying:
‘Tis the final stand!
If the workers take a notion, They can stop all speeding trains; Every ship upon the ocean,
They can tie with mighty chains; Every wheel in the creation, Every mine and every mill, Fleets and armies of the nation Will at their command stand still.
Join the union, fellow workers, Men and women, side by side; We will crush the greedy shirkers Like a sweeping, surging tide; For united, we are standing,
But divided, we will fall;
Let this be our understanding: “All for one and one for all.”
Workers of the world, awaken!
Rise in all your splendid might! Take the wealth that you are making: It belongs to you by right!
No one will for bread be crying: We’ll have freedom, love, and health When the grand Red Flag is flying In the Workers’ Commonwealth!
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2. |
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Bill Brown was just a working man Iike others of his kind.
He lost his job and tramped the streets when work was hard to find.
The landlord put him on the stem, the bankers kept his dough,
And Bill heard everybody sing, no matter where he’d go:
Chorus:
It’s a long way down to the soupline,
tt’s a long way to go.
It’s a long way down to the soupline and the soup is thin I know.
Good bye, good old pork chops, farewell, beefsteak rare It’s a long way down to the soupline but my soup is there.
So Bill and sixteen million men responded to the call
To force the hours of labor down and thus make jobs for all.
They picketed the industries and won the four-hour day
And organized a General Strike so men don’t have to say:
The workers own the factories now where jobs were once destroyed
By big machines that filled the world with hungry unemployed.
They all own homes, they’re living well, they’re happy, free and strong,
But millionaires wear overalls and sing this little song:
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3. |
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As we come marching, marching, in the beauty of the day,
A million darkened kitchens, a thousand mill lofts gray,
Are touched with all the radiance that a sudden sun discloses, For the people hear us singing, “Bread and roses! bread and
roses!
As we come marching, marching, we battle too for men,
For they are women's children, and we mother them again.
Our lives shall not be sweated from birth until life closes; Hearts starve as well as bodies; give us bread, but give us roses.
As we come marching, marching, unnumbered women dead Go crying through our singing their ancient call for bread. Small art and love and beauty their drudging spirits knew. Yes, it is bread we fight for, but we fight for roses too.
As we come marching, marching, we bring the greater days, The rising of the women means the rising of the race.
No more the drudge and idler, ten that toil where one reposes, But a sharing of life's glories: Bread and roses, bread and roses.
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4. |
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There are women of many descriptions
In this queer world, as everyone knows.
Some are living in beautiful mansions,
And are wearing the finest of clothes.
There are blue-blooded queens and princesses, Who have charms made of diamonds and pearls; But the only and thoroughbred lady
Is the Rebel Girl.
That’s the Rebel Girl, that’s the Rebel Girl! To the working class she’s a precious pearl. She brings courage, pride and joy
To the fighting Rebel Boy.
We’ve had girls before, but we need some more In the Industrial Workers of the World.
For it’s great to fight for freedom
With the Rebel Girl.
Yes, her hands may be hardened from labor, And her dress may not be very fine;
But a heart in her bosom is beating
That is true to her class and her kind. And the grafters in terror are trembling When her spite and defiance she’ll hurl; For the only and thoroughbred lady
Is the Rebel Girl.
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5. |
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When I was hiking ’round the town to find a job one day, I saw a sign that a thousand men were wanted right away, To take a trip around the world in Uncle Sammy’s fleet,
I signed my name a dozen times upon a great big sheet.
I was stung right, stung right, S-T-U-N-G,
Stung right, stung right, easy mark, that’s me When my term is over, and again I’m free, There’ll be no more trips around the world for me.
The man he said, “The U. S. Fleet, that is no place for slaves, The only thing you have to do is stand and watch the waves.” But in the morning, five o’clock, they woke me from my snooze, To scrub the deck and polish brass, and shine the captain’s shoes.
One day a dude in uniform to me commenced to shout,
I simply plugged him in the jaw, and knocked him down and out; They slammed me right in irons then and said, “You are a case.” On bread and water then I lived for twenty-seven days.
One day the captain said, “Today I’ll show you something nice, All hands line up, we’ll go ashore and have some exercise.”
He made us run for seven miles as fast as we could run,
And with a packing on our back that weighed a half a ton.
Some time ago when Uncle Sam he had a war with Spain, And many of the boys in blue were in the battle slain,
Not all were killed by bullets, though; no, not by any means, The biggest part that were killed by Armour’s Pork and Beans.
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6. |
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A little girl with her father stayed
In an old cabin ‘cross the sea.
Her mother dear in the cold grave lay:
With her father, she’d always be.
But then one day, the Great War broke out,
And the father was told to go.
The little girl pleaded her father she needed;
She begged, cried, and pleaded so.
“Don’t take my papa away from me;
Don’t leave me here all alone.
He has cared for me so tenderly
Ever since mother has gone.
Nobody ever like him can be;
No one can so with me play.
Don’t take my father away from me; Please don’t take papa away.”
Her tender pleadings were all in vain,
And her father went to the war.
He’ll never kiss her goodnight again
For he fell ‘mid the cannons’ roar.
A greater soldier was never born,
But his brave heart was pierced one day.
And as he was dying, he heard someone crying:
A girl’s voice from far away:
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7. |
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I’m as mild-mannered as I can be
And I’ve never done them harm that I can see
Still on me they put a ban, and they throw me in the can They go wild, simply wild over me.
They accuse me of rascality
But I can’t see why they always pick on me
I’m as gentle as a lamb, but they take me for a ram They go wild, simply wild over me.
Oh, the bull he went wild over me
And he held his gun where everyone could see
He was breathin’ rather hard when he saw my union card He went wild, simply wild over me.
Then the judge he went wild over me
And I plainly saw we never could agree
So I let the man obey what his conscience had to say He went wild, simply wild over me.
Oh, the jailer he went wild over me
And he locked me up and threw away the key
It seems to be the rage so they keep me in a cage They go wild, simply wild over me.
They go wild, simply wild over me.
I’m referring to the bedbug and the flea
They disturb my slumber deep and I murmur in my sleep They go wild, simply wild over me.
Will the roses grow wild over me
When I’m gone into the land that is to be?
When my soul and body part, in the stillness of my heart Will the roses grow wild over me?
Well then god, he went wild over me
When I went before the throne on bended knee
Did he hear my humble yell? No, he told me go to hell! He went wild, simply wild over me.
He went wild, simply wild over me.
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8. |
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Back in nineteen eighteen on a sunny day in June, A thousand of us gathered that hopeful afternoon
In Nimisilla Park between the railroad and the creek To see Eugene Victor Debs, and to hear him speak.
He came down to Canton to talk and take a stand
For peace and justice for the working class throughout the land Now forever I’ll remember, wherever I may roam,
The prescient words that Gene Debs spoke in my Ohio home.
Debs had run for president; it was him I’d voted for
Then I heard that he was comin’ here with a cry against the war When so many in our country were still itchin’ for that fight
He was a solitary beacon in a stormy night
He’d come to see our comrades in the workhouse locked away They would not feed the war machine, their consciences betray From the junkers to the robber barons, money’s what it’s for Poor workers were daily dyin’ in a rich man’s war
He said, “There are better days ahead if to ourselves we’re true And we’ll all rise in common cause, rebuild this world anew
If we just work together, stand for what is right
Make this great cause triumphant, all the working class unite!”
He stood there bone and sinew, with a fire in his eyes And a voice full of passion, from a heart so true and wise With courage unrelenting his words defied their power Even though no doubt he knew the danger of the hour
He said, “A thousand times I’d rather be a free soul in jail Than a coward in the streets, a sycophant for sale.”
So I stood enthralled there that fateful summer day
That man changed my life with every word he had to say
They hauled him off to jail, sedition, so they said
A dangerous man like Debs just has to be stopped dead He said, “I ask no mercy, plead for no immunity
For now I see the rising of those who would be free.
I clearly see the struggle now between our human need
And the wicked powers of exploitation and of greed.
But the cross of stars is bending as we pass through the night And the people waken joyful in the hope of morning light.”
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9. |
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We’re thirty days out from the port of Tacoma For New Caledonia we’re bound
On an old hulk square-rigger, the Star of Russia But she’ll ne’er again sail Puget sound
For she’s seen her day, now they’ve sold her away Under sail it’s her last long trip
No longer at large, stripped down for a barge Tomorrow she’ll be no tall ship
Chorus:
And it’s salt cod and poor old Dobbin Who pulled that old “one-hoss shay” Horse meat so tough it chews like leather And ancient pork fat every day.
Fellow workers back home loaded her down with lumber A million board feet, we were told
Handsome profit for someone on Washington timber When it’s delivered and sold
But the dollars are few for us laboring crew
Hard life on these endless waves
Weak mind and strong back’s what they pay you for, Jack To them we are nothing but slaves
Our cook hasn’t bathed since the birth of the Savior So the galley gives off quite a stink
With the smell of the horse meat, the pig fat and fish It’ll drive a poor sailor to drink
Hard work night and day, and a pittance for pay And we’re livin’ like rats down below
So we all got wise, and we organized
Now we won’t be their slaves anymore
Chorus:
And it’s salt cod and poor old Dobbin Who pulled that old “one-hoss shay” Horse meat so tough it chews like leather And ancient pork fat every day.
We wrote our demands and took them to the skipper
Fair treatment and uniform scale
He called, “Cast off lines!” and with arms crossed we stood Sayin, “Agree, or the Russia won’t sail!”
So he had to choose, but how could we lose? What else could he do but give in?
It paid to rebel, now they treat us quite well, Each worker says, “I Will Win!”
Chorus:
No more salt cod and poor old Dobbin Who pulled that old “one-hoss shay” Horse meat so tough it chews like leather And ancient pork fat every day.
So the captain he called in the handsome young mess boy Askin’, “Are you a double-U, son?
You’d best keep clear of those double-U’s young man, They make trouble for everyone.”
But the boy raised his head, to the skipper he said, Standin’ so brave and tall,
“When all is done, an injury to one
Is an injury to us all!”
Chorus:
No more salt cod and poor old Dobbin Who pulled that old “one-hoss shay” Horse meat so tough it chews like leather And ancient pork fat every day.
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10. |
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I've traveled ‘round this country
From shore to shining shore.
It really made me wonder
Why some are rich and others poor
I saw the weary farmer,
Plowing sod and loam;
I heard the auction hammer
A knocking down his home.
But the banks are made of marble,
With a guard at every door,
And the vaults are stuffed with silver,
That the farmer sweated for.
I saw the seaman standing
Idly by the shore.
I heard the bosses saying,
Got no work for you no more.
But the banks are made of marble,
With a guard at every door,
And the vaults are stuffed with silver,
That the seaman sweated for.
I saw the weary miner,
Scrubbing coal dust from his back,
I heard his children cryin',
Got no coal to heat the shack.
But the banks are made of marble,
With a guard at every door,
And the vaults are stuffed with silver,
That the miner sweated for.
I've seen my people working
Throughout this mighty land;
I knew we'd get together,
And together make a stand.
Then we'd own those banks of marble,
And we’d open every door;
And we'd share those vaults of silver,
That we all have sweated for.
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11. |
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Come all of you good workers Good news to you I’ll tell,
Of how the good ol’ union Has come in here to dwell.
Which side are you on? Which side are you on?
We’ve started our good battle, We know we’re sure to win, Because we’ve got the gun thugs A-lookin’ very thin.
They say they have to guard us
To educate their child;
Their children lives in luxury, Our children’s almost wild.
With pistols and with rifles They take away our bread, And if you miners hinted it, They’d beat you on the head
If you go up to Harlan County There is no neutral there, You’ll either be a union man Or a thug for J.H. Blair.
Oh workers, can you stand it? Oh tell me how you can.
Will you be a gun thug,
Or will you take a stand?
My daddy was a miner.
He is now in the air and sun. He’ll be with you fellow workers Until the battle’s won.
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12. |
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I dreamed that I had died
And gone to my reward:
A job in heaven’s textile plant On a golden boulevard.
Where the mill was made of marble; The machines were made out of gold; And nobody ever got tired;
And nobody ever grew old.
The mill was built in a garden;
No dust or lint could be found;
And the air was so fresh and so fragrant With flowers and trees all around.
And the mill was made of marble...
It was quiet and peaceful in heaven; There was no clatter or boom;
You could hear the most beautiful music, As you worked at the spindle and loom.
There was no unemployment in heaven; We worked steady all through the year; We always had food for the children; We never were haunted by fear.
When I woke from this dream about heaven,
I wondered if some day there’d be
A mill like that one down below here on earth For workers like you and like me.
Where the mill was made of marble...
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13. |
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Do you wonder at the life that you are living?
And do you ask, why must it be this way?
Have you sat down with your neighbor who labors at your side And dared to speak of a new and brighter day?
Are your children ignorant and hungry?
And can you stand it? Oh, tell me how you can
How long will you wait to take what’s rightly yours
To change your fate, every woman, every man?
Build high the bridge from span to span
Look up fellow workers, the moment’s now at hand Join your comrades on the line and don’t let them fall For in Union there is hope for one and all
Were you born a native to this country
Or were you born somewhere in foreign parts?
What happened to the promise that brought you cross the sea With the flame of freedom burning in your hearts?
It was dignity and hope they said you’d find here
If you would join in the building of the land
But the barons of gold like the barons of old
Keep you poor and chained like serfs at their command
Whose strong hands dig the black gold from the mountain? Who tills the soil, runs the foundry and the mill?
Don’t you know my friends you’ve just to stand your ground And fold your arms, and the whole wide world stands still
Build high the bridge from span to span
Look up fellow workers, the moment’s now at hand Join your comrades on the line and don’t let them fall For in Union there’s a place for all
Yes in Union there is strength for all
Build a union with hope for one and all
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14. |
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I’m hearing how business is tough in America
And they say the union’s out of hand
But I read in the news today about the latest threat to my pay And there's one thing I must understand
For they're telling us that they cannot afford our wage
As they turn their greedy eyes on distant shores
As patrols guard the borderlines
And I'm standing in a picket line
In Corporate boardroom plans are formed To move my plant to Ecuador
Where for fifty cents a day
A worker slaves her life away
And then they tell me she's my enemy
At first I did not have the time
To trouble myself with the words
And it all seemed so very far away
But now I'm in a worried mood
'Cause hands need work and kids need food
And I just got laid off today
And they're telling us that it is just good business As foreign sweat swells profit like disease
As patrols guard the borderlines
And I'm standing in an unemployment line While in the Philippines
A mind grows numb from sewin' seams
In Guatemalan hills of cash
A coffee picker's skull is smashed
And then they tell me he's my enemy
Now I am finally putting it all together Borderlines won't score my loyalty They don't care who is the drone Hands of yellow, black or brown Profit is their only deity
As corporate hands of power reach around the world They'll strangle any weak neck they can find
From the diamond mines in Africa
To the fields of El Salvador
From the sweat shops down in Mexico To Bangladesh where the women sew
Sweat is sweat and blood is blood
And one day soon the time must come We'll stand and face our common enemy
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15. |
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Mom and dad have worked the fields I don’t know how many years
I’m just a boy but I know how
And go to school when work is slow We have seen our country’s roads, Bakersfield to Illinois
And when troubles come our way Oh yeah, I’ve seen my daddy pray
There’s something wrong with little sister I hear her cryin’ by my side
Mama’s shakin’ as she holds her
We try to hold her through the night Mom says, “Close your eyes, mijito, Dream of someplace far from here
Like the pictures in your school books. Someday you can take us there.”
There must be something in the rain I’m not sure what that means Abuelita talks of sins of man,
Of dust that’s in our hands
There must be something in the rain
Well, what else could cause this pain
Those airplanes cure the plants so things can grow Oh no, there must be something in the rain.
Little sister’s gone away
Mama’s workin’ long again
And me, I think I understand
About our life, about our land
Well, talkers talk and dreamers dream I will find a place between
I’m afraid but I believe
That we can change these hurting fields.
Because there’s something in the rain But there’s more here in our hands ‘Buelita’ s right about the sins of man Whose profits rape the land
And the rains are pouring down From the growers to the town
And until we break the killing chains There’s something in the rain.
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16. |
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De nuevo quieren manchar mi tierra con sangre obrera Los que hablan de libertad y tienen las manos negras Los que quieren dividir a la madre de sus hijos
Y quieren reconstruir la cruz que arrastrara Cristo
Once more they want to stain my country with worker’ s blood those who talk of liberty and whose hands are blackened those who wish to separate the mother from her sons
and want to reconstruct the cross which Christ bore
Quieren ocultar la infamia que legaron desde siglos Pero el color de asesinos no borraran de su cara
Ya fueron miles y miles los que entregaron su sangre Y en caudales generosos multiplicaron los panes
They want to hide the infamy, their legacy from the centuries but the color of murderers cannot be wiped from their faces Already thousands and thousands have sacrificed their blood and its generous streams have multiplied the loaves
Ahora quiero vivir junto a mi hijo y mi hermano
La primavera que todos vamos construyendo a diario No me asusta la amenaza patrones de la miseria
La estrella de la esperanza continuara siendo nuestra
Now I want to live beside my son and my brother
building the springtime on which we all work every day. You can’t scare me with your threats you masters of misery The star of hope continues to be ours
Vientos del pueblo me llaman, vientos del pueblo me lleman
Me esparacen el corazon y me avientan la garganta Asi cantara el poeta mientras el alma me suene
Por los caminos del pueblo desde ahora y para siempre
Winds of the people speak to me; winds of the people carry me they scatter my heart and blow through my throat
so the poet will go on singing as long as my soul has the power down the roads of the people both now and forever.
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17. |
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Come you ranks of labor, come you union core,
And see if you remember the struggles of before,
When you were standing helpless on the outside of the door And you started building links on the chain.
On the chain, you started building links on the chain.
When the police on the horses were waitin' on demand, Ridin' through the strike with the pistols in their hands, Swingin' at the skulls of union workers where they stand, As you built one more link on the chain, on the chain,
As you built one more link on the chain.
Then the army of the fascists tried to put you on the run, But the army of the union, did what had to be done,
Oh, the power of the factory was greater than the gun, As you built one more link on the chain, on the chain, As you built one more link on the chain.
And then in 1954, decisions finally made,
For civil rights the freedom fighters stood up unafraid
But your union took no stand and your union was betrayed, As you lost yourself a link on the chain, on the chain,
As you lost yourself a link on the chain.
And then there came the boycotts and then the freedom rides,
And forgetting what you stood for, you tried to block the tide, Oh, the automation bosses were laughin' on the side,
As they watched you lose your link on the chain, on the chain, As they watched you lose your link on the chain.
You know when they block your trucks now, by layin' on the road, All that they are doin' is all that you have showed,
That you gotta strike, you gotta fight to get what you are owed, When you're building all your links on the chain, on the chain, When you're building all your links on the chain.
And the man who tries to tell you that they'll take your job away, He's the same man who was scabbin' hard just the other day, And your union's not a union till he's moved out of the way,
And he's chokin' on your links of the chain, of the chain,
And he's chokin' on your links of the chain.
For now the times are tellin' you the times are rollin' on,
And you're fighting for the same thing, the jobs that will be gone, So it's only fair to ask you now, which side are you on?
As you're buildin' all your links on the chain, on the chain,
As you're buildin' all your links on the chain.
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18. |
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Some of us came here for freedom from hunger and from hate Some us came here to make it rich and some of us came in chains We landed in your sweatshops and we died on your new frontier We pulled the cotton from the land that we watered with our tears
We may have come here on different ships, but we’re in the same boat now
Hemos llegados en barcos diferentes, estamos en el mismo bote ahora
Some grew rich by toil and trade, some grew rich by vice
Some grew rich in power and all of us paid the price
And in the name of progress how we ground each other down But no one is the winner when you’re building on bloody ground
Women of all colors from every walk of life
We bore the hidden burden as mothers, daughters, and wives Hired when we’re needed, sent home when the jobs run down But we’re not waiting on the shore, we’re turning the boat around
We’re a people born of many shores, our journeys so entwined And we’ll be on a sinking ship if we leave anybody behind Don’t want to be no melting pot, we’re a rainbow family
And it’s gonna take everything we’ve got to set each other free
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19. |
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There's a long, long line of people Trying to keep from crying There's always someone dying But today's just not the same There's a man shot dead in Utah With a paper heart pinned on him Framed up without pardon
I guess you know his name.
Well, you say you saw him out last night But I hear him every day
In the voices of the people
In the songs they sing and play
They framed him up and they shot him down This whole wide world's his burying ground But the songs of the working people
Are his marking stone.
If heaven is One Big Union
I know that's where I'll find him Playing cards with Big Bill Haywood Telling jokes with Mother Jones Casey Jones and long-haired preachers Mr. Block and Scissor Bill
"Sent to hell a-flying"
By songs no one can kill.
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released July 23, 2022
