DECEMBER 1, 2018

The 9th Annual Big, Gay,

Socialist, Liberal, Elitist
Thanksgiving
A project organized and re-organized by the Commune

“One, two, three, four;

I declare a class war.
Five, six, seven, eight;
Eat the rich and smash the state.”

1
Table of Contents

A Las Barricadas (Song of the Spanish Anarchists) 3

All Used Up (Phillips) 3
All You Fascists Bound to Lose (Guthrie) 4
Arthur McBride 5
Between the Wars (Bragg) 7
Bread and Roses (Oppenhiem & Cohlseet) 8
Casey Jones, Union Scab (Hill) 8
De Colores 9
Fuck off and Die (Kienin) 10
Hallelujah! I’m a Bum (McClintock) 11
Hold the Fort (Bliss) 12
I Ain’t Marching Anymore (Ochs) 13
The Internationale (Pottier & De Geyter) 14
Joe Hill (Hayes & Robinson) 14
Listen, Mr. Bigot (Seeger) 15
Love Me, I’m a Liberal (Ochs) 16
Mr. Block (Hill) 17
Mussolini’s Dead (Palmer) 18
One Day More (Purkey) 19
Organized Crime (Boverman & Miller) 20
The Partisan (Vigerie, Marly & Zaret) 21
The Picket Line Song (Greer) 22
Pig Hollow (Phillips) 23
Power in a Union (Hill) 23
Power in a Union (Bragg) 24
The Preacher and the Slave (Hill) 25
The Red Flag 26
The Rich Man’s House 27
Roll the Union On (Handcox) 27
Solidarity Forever! (Chaplin) 28
This Land is Your Land (Guthrie) 29
Union Maid (Guthrie) 30
We Have Fed You All for 1000 Years 31
Which Side Are You On? (Reese) 31

A note on language: many of these songs are very old, and were written by activists with an incomplete
understanding of race, gender, intersectionality and privilege (among other things). The organizers feel it
is important to preserve and pass on this music while acknowledging and correcting these blind spots.
We have identified and tweaked (or replaced) problematic lyrics whenever it was possible to do so while
preserving the integrity and rhyme scheme of the song. We welcome any and all suggestions for how we
can make further revisions, and encourage you to sing (or not sing) whatever words you’d like.

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A Las Barricadas (song of the Spanish Anarchists)

Negras tormentas agitan los aires

Nubes oscuras nos impiden ver.
Aunque nos espere el dolor y la muerte
contra el enemigo nos llama el deber.

El bien mas preciado

es la libertad
hay que defenderla
con fe y con valor.

Alza la bandera revolucionaria

que llevara al pueblo a la emancipacion
En pie obrero a la batalla
hay que derrocar a la reaccion

A las Barricadas!
A las Barricadas!
por el triunfo
de la Confederacion.

All Used Up (Utah Phillips)

C
I worked my whole life making somebody rich,
F G
I busted my ass for that son of a bitch!
F C
Then he left me to die like a dog in a ditch
Am G C
And told me I’m all used up.

He used up my labor, he used up my time

He used up my body and squandered my mind
Then he left me a pension of handouts and wine
And told me I’m all used up.

Now the kids are in hoc to a God you call work,

Slaving their lives out for some other jerk.
And my eldest in ‘Frisco just made shipping clerk,
He don’t know I’m all used up.

Some young people reach out for power and gold

And don’t have respect for anything old.

3
For pennies they’re bought and for promises sold--
What’s left when they’re all used up?

They use up the oil, they use up the trees

They use up the air and they use up the sea
But what about you friend, and what about me?
What’s left when we’re all used up?

I’ll live out my life in this crummy hotel,

It’s lousy with bugs and my God what a smell,
But my plumbing still works and I’m clear as a bell,
Don’t tell me I’m all used up.

Outside my window the world passes by

It gives me a handout and spits in my eye,
And no one can tell me, ‘cause no one knows why
I’m still living if I’m all used up.

They use up the oil, they use up the trees

They use up the air and they use up the sea
But what about you friend, and what about me?
What’s left when we’re all used up?

Sometimes in a dream I sit down by a tree,

And life is a picture of how things used to be
And the kids gather ‘round and all listen to me,
They don’t think I’m all used up.

And there’s laughter and singing and things I can do,

And everything I’ve learned I’ll pass on to you,
And I’d give my last breath just to make it come true,
Just to show that I’m not used up.

They use up the oil, they use up the trees

They use up the air and they use up the sea
But as long as I’m breathing they won’t use up me;
Don’t tell me I’m all used up!

All You Fascists Bound to Lose (Woody Guthrie; additional verses by Billy Bragg)

Gonna tell all of you fascists, you may be surprised

People all over this world are getting organized,
You’re bound to lose, you fascists, bound to lose!

CHORUS:

4
All you fascists bound to lose,
All you fascists bound to lose,
All you fascists bound to lose,
You’re bound to lose, you fascists, bound to lose!

I’m going into battle, gonna take my union gun,

We’ll end this world of slavery before this war is won,
You’re bound to lose, you fascists, bound to lose!

CHORUS

Race hatred cannot stop us, this one thing we know--

Your stop-and-frisk and anti-Muslim hate have got to go1,
You’re bound to lose, you fascists, bound to lose!

CHORUS

People of all colors are marching side by side

We’re marching across these fields where a million fascists died!
You’re bound to lose, you fascists, bound to lose!

CHORUS

Arthur McBride (traditional)2

C F
‘Twas me and me cousin one Arthur McBride,
Am C F
And we went a walking down by the seaside;
C F Am C
In search of good fortune and what would betide,
F G
The day being Christmas morning.

And as we were walking down by the seaside

We met Sergeant Upper and Corporal Pride,
And a tiny, wee drummer who was there at their side
To stir up their camp in the morning.

"Good morning, good morning!" the Sergeant did cry;

"And the same to you gentlemen" we did reply;
Intending no harm, we just meant to pass by,
The day being pleasant an charming.

1
This line was altered by the editor to fit modern political circumstances.
2
This protest song first emerged out of Ireland in the mid-19th century. It was likely in response to the Napoleonic
wars.

5
He says "me young fellows if you will enlist,
It's ten guineas in gold I will slip in your fist.
And a crown in the bargain, to kick up the dust,
To drink the King's health in the morning.

For a soldier he leads a very fine life,

And he always is blessed with a charming young wife,
And he pays all his debts without sorrow or strife,
And always lives happy and charming.

And a soldier he always is decent and clean,

In the finest of garments he's constantly seen,
While other poor fellows go dirty and mean,
And sup on thin gruel in the morning."

Says Arthur, "I wouldn't be proud of your clothes,

For you've only the lend of them, as I suppose,
And you dare not change them one night or you know
If you do you'll be flogged in the morning.

And although we seem now to be single and free,

We take great delight in our own company,
And we have no desire strange countries to see,
Although that your offer is charming.

And we have no desire to take your advance,

All hazards and danger, we'll not take the chance,
For ye'd have no scruples but to send us to France,
Where ye know we'd be shot in the morning."

"Oh now," says the Sergeant, "I'll have no such chat,

And I neither will take it from spailpín nor brat.
If you open your mouth with one more word of that,
I'll chop off your heads in the morning."

But Arthur and I we counted the odds,

And we barely gave them chance to draw their own blades,
With our trusty shillelaghs came over their heads,
And we bade them take that as fair warning.

As for the wee drummer, we straightened his bow,

And made a football of his row-dee-dow-dow,
Cast it into the ocean for to ebb and to flow,
And we bade it a tedious returning.

And as for the old rapiers that hung by their sides

We flung them as far as we could in the tide,
"To the Devil I send ye", cries Arthur McBride,

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"And temper your steel in the morning!"

And so, to conclude and to settle disputes,

We obligingly asked if they wanted recruits.
For we were the fellows who would give them hard knocks,
And bid them look sharp in the morning.

And having no money, we paid them in whacks,

And we paid no respect to their two bloody backs,
For we lathered them there, like a pair of wet sacks,
And left them for dead in the morning.

And then me and me cousin one Arthur McBride,

We kept on a walking down by the seaside.
In search of good fortune and what may betide,
The day was Christmas morning.

Between the Wars (Billy Bragg)

D G D
I was a miner, I was a docker
G D Bm A
I was a railway man between the wars.
D G D
I raised a family in times of austerity
G D Bm A D
With sweat at the foundry, between the wars.

I paid the union and as times got harder

I looked to the government to help the working poor.
And they brought prosperity down at the armory
We’re arming for peace, me boys, between the wars.

I kept the faith and I kept on voting

Not for the iron fist but for the helping hand.
For theirs is a land with a wall all around it
And mine a faith in my fellow man.

Theirs is a land of hope and of glory

Mine is of the green field and factory floor
Theirs are the skies all dark with bombers
And mine is the peace we know between the wars.

So call up the craftsmen, bring out the draftsmen

Make me a path from cradle to grave.
And I’ll give my consent to any government
That does deny my class a living wage.

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Go tell the young men never to fight again
Bring up the banners from days gone by
Sweet moderation, heart of this nation--
Desert us not, we are between the wars.

Bread and Roses (James Oppenheim and Caroline Cohleseet)

C G
As we come marching, marching in the beauty of the day,
C Am G
A million darkened kitchens, a thousand mill lofts gray,
C Am G
Are touched with all the radiance that a sudden sun discloses,
C Am F GC
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 cry 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.

For 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!

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!"

Casey Jones, Union Scab (Joe Hill)

E A
The workers on the S. P. line to strike sent out a call.
E A B
But Casey Jones, the engineer, he wouldn't strike at all.
E
His boiler it was leaking, and its drivers on the bum,
A B E
And his engine and its bearings, they were all out of plumb.

8
Casey Jones kept his junk pile running;
Casey Jones was working double time;
Casey Jones got a wooden medal
For being good and faithful on the S. P. line.

The workers said to Casey: "Won't you help us win this strike?"
But Casey said: "Let me alone, you'd better take a hike."
Then Casey’s engine hit a pile of ties upon the track3
And Casey hit the river with an awful smack.

Casey Jones hit the river bottom;

Casey Jones broke his bloomin’ spine;
Casey Jones went right up to Heaven,
He rode a golden ticket on the S.P. line.

When Casey got to Heaven, way up to the Pearly Gate

He said: "My name is Casey Jones, that pulled the S. P. freight."
"You're just the guy," said Peter, "our musicians are on strike.
You can get a job a-scabbing any time you like."

Casey Jones got a job in Heaven;

Casey Jones was doing mighty fine;
Casey Jones went scabbing on the angels
Just like he did to workers of the S. P. line.

The angels got together, they said it wasn't fair

For Casey Jones to go around a-scabbing everywhere.
The Angels' Union No. 23, they sure were there
And they promptly fired Casey down the Golden Stairs.

Casey Jones went to Hell employin’;

"Casey Jones," the Devil said, "Oh fine;
Casey Jones, get busy shoveling Sulphur!
That's what you get for scabbing on the S. P. Line."

De Colores (Traditional)

G D7
De colores, de colores se visten los campos en la primavera
(D7) C G
De colores, de colores son los pajaritos que vienen dea fuera
(G) G7 C
De colores, de colores es el arco iris que vemos lucir
(C) G D7 G
Y pore solos grandes amores de muchos colores me gustan ami

3
This refers to an act of industrial sabotage. The line was changed in subsequent years, but has here been restored
to its original, incendiary version.

9
Canta en gallo, canta en gallo con el quiri-quiri-quiri-quiri-quiri
La galena, la galena con el cara-cara-cara-cara-cara
Los polluelos, los polluelos con el pio-pio-pio-pio-pi
Y pore solos grandes amores de muchos colores me gustan ami

Fuck off and Die (Eliot Keinin)

C F
The place where I work pays just forty a day.
C Am G
I can’t raise my kids on such miserable pay.
C F
I went to the boss and I said “I need more!”
C Am G C
The boss said so sweetly as he showed me the door:

“Fuck off and die! Fuck off and die!”

That’s what the boss said, just “fuck off and die”! (x2)

I needed a place for my family to stay

The landlords all wanted more than we could pay
I said “Would you make us live out in the street?”
And their answer, in chorus, with voices so sweet:

“Fuck off and die! Fuck off and die!”

That’s what the landlords said, “fuck off and die”! (x2)

I work in a plant mixing chemical swill

The fumes make me sick and the smell it could kill
I went to the boss and said “clean up the air!”
And the boss said so kindly from his leather chair:

“Fuck off and die! Fuck off and die!”

That’s what the boss said, just “fuck off and die”! (x2)

When we finally get all the wealth that we’ve made

With machine and computer, with plow and with spade
And the bosses come running, those former rich fools
And say they can’t live without mansions and pools, we’ll say…

Fuck off and die! Fuck off and die!

We’ll tell all those fuckers to fuck off and die! (x2)

10
Hallelujah! I’m a Bum (Harry McClintock)4

G
Why don't you work like other folks do?
(G) D
How the hell can I work when there's no work to do?

CHORUS:
G D
Hallelujah! I'm a bum. Hallelujah! Bum again.
(D) Em D7 G
Hallelujah! Give us a handout to revive us again.

Oh, why don't you save all the money you earn?
If I didn't eat, I'd have money to burn.

CHORUS

Oh, I like my boss, he's a good friend of mine,

That's why I am starving out on the breadline.

CHORUS

I can't buy a job 'cause I ain't got the dough,

So I ride in a boxcar 'cause I'm a hobo.
CHORUS

I went to a bar and I asked for a drink,

They gave me a glass and they showed me the sink.5

CHORUS

I went to a house and I knocked on the door,

A lady says “scram, bum, you’ve been here before!”

CHORUS

When I finally make all the money I earn

The boss will be broke and to work he must turn

CHORUS

When springtime it comes, oh, won't we have fun;

We'll throw off our jobs, and go out on the bum.

4
Harry McClintock claims to have written “Hallelujah! I’m a Bum” but it is likely that some form of the song already
existed long before he supposedly penned it.
5
This verse and the one following it were written by Carl Sandburg and added to the song around 1920.

11
CHORUS

Why don’t you work like the other folks do?

But how can I work when the sky is so blue?

Hold the Fort (Phillip Biss)

G C
We meet today in freedom’s cause
G D
And raise our voices high
G C
We join our hands in union strong
Em D
To battle or to die

CHORUS:
G
Hold the fort, for we are coming!
Em D
Union workers be strong
G C
Side by side, we’ll battle onwards
Em D
Victory will come!

Well look my comrades, see the union!

Banners waving high!
Re-enforcements now appearing--
Victory is nigh!

CHORUS

We see our numbers still increasing

And hear the bugle blow.
By our union we will triumph
Over every foe!

CHORUS

Fierce and long the battle rages

But we will not fail!
Help will come when e’er it’s needed
Cheer, my comrades, cheer!

CHORUS

12
I Ain’t Marching Anymore (Phil Ochs)

G C D G C D
Oh I marched to the battle of New Orleans at the end of the early British War.
G Am C Em
The young land started growing, the young blood started flowing,
Am D
But I ain’t marching anymore!

For I killed my share of Indians in a thousand different tribes, I was there at the Little Bighorn.
I heard many men lying, I saw many more dying,
But I ain’t marching anymore!

CHORUS:
C G
It’s always the old who lead us to the war,
C Em D
It’s always the young to fall.
C G Em
But now look at all we’ve won with the saber and the gun—
Am D
Tell me is it worth it all?

I stole California from the Mexican land, fought in the bloody Civil War.
Yes I even killed my brothers, and so many others
But I ain’t marching anymore!

For I marched to the battles of the German trench in a war that was bound to end all wars.
Oh I must’ve killed a million men, and now they want me back again
But I ain’t marching anymore!

CHORUS

For I flew the final mission in the Japanese sky, set off the mighty mushroom roar.
When I saw the cities burning, I knew that I was learning--
Now I ain’t marching anymore!

Now the labor leaders scream when they close the missile plant,
United Fruit screams at the Cuban shore.
Call it peace or call it treason, call it love or call it reason,
But I ain’t marching anymore!

13
The Internationale (Eugene Pottier and Pierre de Geyter; IWW/English version)

G C
Arise, ye prisoners of starvation!
D7 G
Arise, ye wretched of the earth!
(G) C
For justice thunders condemnation;
Em D
A better world’s in birth!
G C
No more tradition’s chains shall bind us;
D7 G
Arise, ye slaves! No more in thrall!
(G) Em
The earth shall rise on new foundations
Am D G
We have been naught, we shall be all!

CHORUS:
(G) C D7 G
It’s the final contest, let each stand in his place.
(G) Em D
The international working class will free the human race!
G C D7 G
It’s the final contest, let each stand in his place.
Em C Am D G
The international working class will free the human race!

We need no condescending saviors

To rule us from their judgment halls.
We workers ask not for their favors—
Let us decide for all!
To make the thief disgorge his booty
To free the spirit from it’s cell
We must ourselves decide our duty;
We must decide and do it well!

CHORUS

Joe Hill (Alfred Hayes and Earl Robinson)

G D C G
I dreamed I saw Joe Hill last night, alive as you and me.
Em C
Said I, “But Joe, you’re ten years dead.”
D

14
“I never died,” says he.
D7 G
“I never died,” says he.

In Salt Lake City just as I was lyin’ in my bed,

“They framed you on a murder charge—“
Said Joe, “but I ain’t dead.”
Said Joe, “but I ain’t dead.”

“The copper bosses shot you Joe, They killed you, Joe!” said I.
“Takes more than guns to kill a man,”
Said Joe, “I didn’t die.”
Said Joe, “I didn’t die.”

Then standing there as large as life, and smiling with his eyes,
Said Joe, “What they could never kill
Went on to organize,
Went on to organize.”

“From San Diego up through Maine, in every mine and mill,

Where workers strike and organize
Is where you’ll find Joe Hill,
That’s where you’ll find Joe Hill.”

I dreamed I saw Joe Hill last night, alive as you and me

Said I, “But Joe, you’re ten years dead—“
“I never died,” says he.
“I never died,” says he.

Listen Mr. Bigot (originally “Listen Mr. Bilbo” by Pete Seeger)

CHORUS:
Listen, Mr. Bigot, listen to me, I'll give you a lesson in history
Listen while I tell you how the foreigners you hate
Are the very same people made America great!

Well when the king of England started pushin' yanks around

They had a little trouble up in Boston town
And a brave free black, Crispus Attucks was the man
The first one to fall when the fightin' began.

CHORUS

Now bigot, you're taking one hell of a chance

Your good friends the DuPonts, came over from France
Another thing I'm sure will be news to you

15
The first Mr. Bigot was a foreigner too.

CHORUS

You don't like blacks, you don't like Jews

Well if there's anyone you do like, it sure is news
You don't like Muslims, Hispanics too
And any way they serve you up, we don't like you

CHORUS

Love Me, I’m a Liberal! (Phil Ochs)

E A E A E C#m
I cried when they shot Medger Evers, the tears ran right down my spine
E A E F#m B7
I cried when they shot Mr. Kennedy as though I’d lost a father of mine
E A E G#m A
But Malcolm X got what was coming, he got what he asked for this time

E C#m A B7 E
So love me, love me, love me I’m a liberal!

I go to civil rights rallies, I put down the old D. A. R.

I love Harry and Sidney and Sammy, I hope every black boy becomes a star
But don’t talk about revolution—that’s going a little too far
Oh love me, love me, love me, I’m a liberal!

I cheered when Humphrey was chosen—my faith in the system restored!

And I’m glad all the commies were thrown out of the AFL-CIO board!
I love black people and Puerto Ricans, just as long as they don’t move in next door,
So love me, love me, love me, I’m a liberal!

The people of old Mississippi should all hang their heads in shame
I can’t understand how their minds work—what’s the matter, don’t they watch Les Crain?
But if you ask me to bus my children I’ll have the cops write down your name
Oh love me, love me, love me, I’m a liberal!

I read New Republic and Nation, I’ve learned to take every view
You know I’ve memorized Lerner and Golden—I feel like I’m almost a Jew!
But when it comes to times like Korea, you know there’s no one more red, white, and blue
So love me, love me, love me, I’m a liberal!

I vote for the Democratic Party; they want the U.N. to be strong
I go to all the Pete Seeger concerts, he sure gets me singing those songs!
I’ll send all the money you ask for, but don’t ask me to come on along,
Just love me, love me, love me, I’m a liberal!

16
Once I was young and impulsive, I wore every conceivable pin
Even went to the Socialist meetings and learned every old union hymn
But now I’m much older and wiser, and that’s why I’m turning you in!
So love me, love me, love me, I’m a liberal!

Mr. Block6 (Joe Hill)

C F C
Please give me your attention, and I’ll introduce to you
C Am G
A man who is a credit to our red, white and blue
C F C
His head is made of lumber, and solid as a rock.
Am G C
He’s a Christian and a worker and his name is Mr. Block.

Am
And Block thinks that he may
F G
Be President someday…

CHORUS:
C F C
Oh Mr. Block, you were born by mistake (da da da)
G
You take the cake (da da da)
C
You make me ache.
(C) F C
Tie a rock to your block and go jump in the lake--
Am G C
Would you do that for Liberty’s sake?

Oh Mr. Block was lucky—he got a job by gee,

The shark got seven dollars for the job in fare and fee.
They shipped him to the desert and dumped him with his truck,
But when Block tried to find his job he sure was out of luck.

And Block said “Oh, that’s raw!

I’ll fix it with the law…”

CHORUS

Block hiked back to the city, he said “I’ll show ‘em well!
I’ll go and join a union, the great A.F. of L.

6
Mr. Block was a cartoon character who appeared in the Industrial Worker, the newspaper of the Industrial
Workers of the World. He constantly set an example of how union workers ought not to behave.

17
He got a job that morning, was fired in the night
And said “I’ll call Sam Gompers7 to flex the union’s might!

Sam Gompers said “we’ll see,

But you have my sympathy…”

CHORUS

At Election time Block shouted: “A Socialist for Mayor!”

His comrade was elected and all seemed good and fair.
But then that very morning, Block received a shock
When a great big Socialistic bull did rap him on the block!

And Mr. Block did sob—

“I helped him get his job…”

CHORUS

The sugar kings in Cuba blew up the gunboat Maine.

But Block got mighty angry and blamed it all on Spain.
He went right into battle and there he lost his leg,
And now he’s peddling shoestrings and he’s walking on a peg.

Still he shouts” “Remember Maine!

Hurrah! To Hell with Spain…”

CHORUS

Poor Block he died one evening, I’m very glad to state.

He climbed the golden stairway up to the Pearly gate.
He said “Oh, Mr. Peter, one word I’d like to tell—
I’d like to meet the Vanderbilts and John D. Rockefell!

St. Pete said “is that so?

You’ll find them down below…”

CHORUS

Mussolini’s Dead (Amanda Palmer)8

Now the war is over, Mussolini’s dead;

He wants to go to Heaven with a crown upon his head
The Lord says “No, he’s got to stay below,”
Now he’s all dressed up with no where to go…

7
Sam Gompers was the conservative/moderate leader of the American Federation of Labor during the early 1900s.
8
This is the end of the song “Good Day” by he Dresden Dolls, off of the album The Dresden Dolls (2004)

18
One Day More (Elaine Purkey)

Am G Am
One day more, one day more.
(Am) E
People let me tell you just what we’re fighting for
Am C
We’re fighting for our future, don’t you understand?
Am C G Am
And we don’t need your pity, we just need your helping hand

(Am) G Am
To fight one day more, one day more
(Am) C G Am
If the company holds out twenty years, we’ll hold out one day more (x2)

If the bosses think that they can win they’ll get a big surprise
‘Cause we’re honest folks and we will cut them down to size
We’ll clean out the yards, throw out the guards
Cut those big bulls down, but we’ll still be around

CHORUS

We’ve got to change the way things are and make people understand
How the working class is being denied their rights in a free land
Our government lets criminals run free to steal again
And then takes the jobs of honest working women and men

CHORUS

Let’s change the laws, remove the flaws, and start all over new
Demand our rights, take back our land for freedom through and through
Keep the scabs out of the White House, vote Union comrades in
And then the Feds can’t ever take us off in a ball and chains again

CHORUS

One day more, one day more.

People let me tell you just what we’re fighting for
We’re fighting for your futures, don’t you understand?
And you won’t need our pity, you’ll just need our helping hand

To fight one day more, one day more.

If the companies can hold out twenty years, we’ll hold out one day more (x2)

19
Organized Crime (Kate Boverman and Ethan Miller)

C F C
We’ve all seen the movies ‘bout gangsters and thugs
(C) G
And cunning mob bosses and the lords of the drugs
C F
But listen now closely if you’ve got the time
Am F G C
‘Cause I’d like to tell you ‘bout organized crime

Well the old mafiosi and cinema crooks

They might sport the pinstripes and sinister looks
But you’ll have to look closer if you’d like to find
The true perpetrators of organized crime.

So raise up your hand now if you’ve got a job

Making shit wage and working until your head throbs
They’re making a profit from robbing you blind…
They say it’s just business; it’s organized crime.

And the more the rich got, well the more the rich get
While everyone else lives on toil and sweat.
The boss makes ten dollars, you just make a dime…
It’s not fair compensation, it’s organized crime.

And the tide of prosperity lifts every boat

They say as you fall down and drown in their moat.
It’s a game of roulette that you’ll lose every time…
This economy’s nothing but organized crime.

And if it wasn’t enough then the government comes

Giving handouts to rich folks and taxing our crumbs.
We pay them to shaft us then give us a line
Oh, it’s not in our interest, it’s organized crime.

Tell me who are the crooks and who’s just getting by,
Who’s doing honest work, and who’s telling lies?
The real crooks go free while the poor folks do time…
If you’re not angry you should be—it’s organized crime.

Well this time we can’t just call up the police

‘Cause the criminals got all the cops on a leash
We’ll have to take things in our own hands this time…
If we’re gonna shut down their organized crime.

So come on, now, friends, are you ready to fight?

They’ve stolen our power like it was their right!

20
Let’s take it all back from this bloodsucking slime,
The real perpetrators of organized crime.

Now talk to your neighbors and talk to your friends,

Turn off the TV and start organizing.
We won’t let them get off so scot-free this time
When we topple their empire of organized crime.

We won’t let them get off so scot-free this time

When we topple their empire of organized crime.
Topple their empire of organized crime. (x2)

The Partisan (Emmanuel d’Astier de La Vigerie, Anna Marly & Hy Zaret)

When they poured across the border

I was cautioned to surrender. This I could not do.
I took my gun and vanished.

I have changed my name so often,

I have lost my wife and children, but I have many friends.
And some of them are with me

An old woman gave us shelter,

Kept us hidden in the garret, then the soldiers came.
She died without a whisper…

There were three of us this morning,

I’m the only one this evening, but still I must go on
The frontiers are my prison

Oh the wind, the wind is blowing—

Through the graves the wind is blowing
Freedom soon will come.
Then we’ll come from the shadows.

Les Allemands etaient chez moi

Ils me dirent, resigne-toi, mais je n’ai pas pu.
J’ai repris mon arme.

J’ai change cent fois de nom

J’ai perdu femme et enfants, mais j’ai tant d’amis.
J’ai le France entiendre.

Un vieil homme dans un grenier

Pour la nuit nous a cache, les Allemands l’ont pris.
Il est mort sans supplice.

Oh the wind, the wind is blowing--

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Through the graves the wind is blowing.
Freedom soon will come.
Then we’ll come from the shadows.

The Picket Line Song (Evan Greer)

CHORUS:
G C G
Oh I would never walk across a picket line
(G) C D
Solidarity Forever don't mean just sometimes
G C G
So long live the union! Cross my heart and hope to die
(G) Em D G
If I should ever walk across a picket line.

Well my mother never told me what was right or what was wrong,
She never taught me to play guitar never taught me to write songs.
But one thing that she taught me I'll remember for all time--
And that's that you should never walk across a picket line.

CHORUS

She took me to a factory where the workers were on strike.

The company had called in scabs to break the union's might.
My mom went to the front and she addressed those greedy swine--
She said “I dare you men to walk across this picket line!'

CHORUS

Well one of them came forward and he had something to say:

“No woman will stand between me and one day's pay!
I don't care about the others, I am taking what is mine!”
And with that he tried to walk across our picket line.

CHORUS

Mom called him a dirty scab, gave him two pieces of her mind,
She picked up and she threw every rock that she could find.
And when he called the cops on her she kicked his behind,
Saying “that's what you get when you walk across a union's picket line!'

CHORUS

Well to this day I can remember what my momma used to say:

22
“We're fighting for a better world, not just for better pay!
And if we stick together then we'll win this fight in time
So long as we don't walk across each other's picket lines.”

CHORUS

Pig Hollow (Utah Phillips)

C F C
Slow rolling freight from the West Ogden yard easing along down the line,
F C G7
The Pig Hollow jungle camp9 swings into view, you hop off and here’s what you find:
C F C
The ruins and ashes lie scattered around, the jungle is empty and bare.
F C G7 C
The shanties and tents are all burned to the ground, not a fire or a friend anywhere.

The rich man lives in a house made of stone high on a hill looking down;
The poor man lives in a tar paper shack way out on the back side of town.
But the rich man don’t worry about his fine house--it’s protected like you never saw
While the poor man gets railroaded out by the cops and his house gets burned down by the law.

The poor man is fighting for all that he’s got—he stands with his back against the wall.
The rich man spends nearly half of his life just chasing a little white ball.
But the rich man says that Pig Hollow must go: it’s the place where the crooks rendezvous.
Oh, but say don’t you think if you blew up a bank you might flush out a scoundrel or two?

And say don’t you think if some bum with a torch set fire to a big fancy hall
Then the cops would come down like a bloodthirsty hound and flat-nail his hide to the wall?
It’s clear that the laws are all made for the rich--they’ve got you, boys, win lose or draw.
Try as you may to stay out of their way, you’ll just get burned down by the law.

Power in a Union (Joe Hill)

G C
Would you have freedom from wage slavery?
D7 G
Then come join in the grand industrial band!
(G) C
Would you from starvation wages be free?
D7 G
Come on, do your part, lend a hand!

9
Pig Hollow was a hobo jungle/tent city near Ogden, UT that was burned down by vigilantes and evicted in 1965.

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CHORUS:
G C G
There is power, there is power in a band of working folks
D D7 G
When they stand hand in hand!
(G) C G
That’s a power, it’s a power that will rule in every land:
D D7 G
One industrial union grand!

Would you have mansions of gold in the sky

And live in a shack way out in the back?
Would you have wings up in Heaven to fly
But starve here with chains on your back?

CHORUS

If you’ve had enough of the “blood of the lamb”

Then come join the grand industrial band!
If you, for a change, would have eggs and ham
Go on, do your part, lend a hand.

CHORUS

If you’d have sluggers to beat on your head

Then don’t organize, and all unions despise!
If you’d have nothing until you are dead
Shake hands with your boss and look wise.

CHORUS

Come all you workers from every distant land

And join in the grand industrial band!
Then we this world and its wealth will demand
Come on, do your share, lend a hand!

CHORUS

Power in a Union (Billy Bragg)

A D A
There is power in a factory, power in the land,
A E
Power in the hands of a worker.
A D A
But it all amounts to nothing if together we don't stand--

24
(A) F#m E A
There is power in a union.

Now the lessons of the past were all learned with workers' blood--
The mistakes of the bosses we must pay for.
From the cities and the farmlands to trenches full of mud
War has always been the bosses' way, sir.

The Union forever defending our rights,

Down with the blackleg10, all workers unite!
With our brothers and our sisters from many far off lands--
There is power in a union!

Now I long for the morning that they realize

Brutality and unjust laws can’t defeat us.
But who'll defend the workers who cannot organize
When the bosses send their lackeys out to cheat us?

Money speaks for money, the Devil for his own.

Who comes to speak for the skin and the bone?
What a comfort to the widow, a light to the child;
There is power in a union.

The union forever defending our rights,

Down with the blackleg, all workers unite!
With our brothers and our sisters together we will stand--
There is power in a union.

The Preacher and the Slave (Joe Hill)

D G D
The long-haired preachers come out every night
(D) G A
Trying to tell you what's wrong and what's right.
D G D
But when asked “how about something to eat?”
Bm A D
They will answer in voices so sweet:

CHORUS:
(D) A
You will eat (you will eat!), by and by (by and by!)
G D
In that glorious land in the sky (way up high!)

10
“Blackleg” is an English term for a strikebreaker.

25
 (D) Bm
Work and pray, and live on hay
G A D
And you'll get pie in the sky when you die.
(THAT’S A LIE!)

Holy Rollers and jumpers come out

And they roll and they jump and they shout.
“Give your money to Jesus” they say,
“And he will help on that glorious day.”

CHORUS

The Starvation Army they play

And they sing and they clap and they pray
But when they’ve got all your coins on the drum
They won’t tell you when you’re on the bum.

CHORUS

If you fight hard for husband or wife

And try to get something good in this life
You're a sinner and a bad one they tell
And when you die you will sure go to Hell.

CHORUS

Working folks of all countries unite!

And side by side we for freedom will fight!
When the world and its wealth we have gained
To the grafters we'll sing this refrain:

You will eat (you will eat!), by and by (by and by!)
When you've learned how to cook and how to fry
Chop some wood, it’ll do you good
And you'll eat in the sweet by and by
(THAT’S NO LIE!)

The Red Flag

(to the tune of “Oh, Christmas Tree!”)}

The People’s flag is deepest red--

It shrouded oft our martyred dead.
And ‘ere their limbs grew stiff and cold,
Their hearts’ blood dyed it’s every fold.

So raise the scarlet standard high!

Within its shade we’ll live and die!

26
Though cowards flinch and traitors sneer,
We’ll keep the red flag flying here.

The Rich Man’s House (Kensington Welfare Rights Union song)

Well I went down to the rich man’s house and I took back what he stole from me:
Took back my dignity, took back my humanity.
Well I went down to the rich man’s house and I took back what he stole from me.
Now he’s under my feet, under my feet,
Under my feet, under my feet
Ain’t gonna let the system walk all over me.

Well I went down to the landlord’s house and I took back what he stole from me:
Took back my dignity, took back my humanity.
Well I went down to the landlord’s house and I took back what he stole from me.
Now he’s under my feet, under my feet,
Under my feet, under my feet
Ain’t gonna let the system walk all over me.

Well I went down to the welfare office and I took back what they stole from me:
Took back my dignity, took back my humanity.
Well I went down to the welfare office and I took back what they stole from me.
Now he’s under my feet, under my feet,
Under my feet, under my feet
Ain’t gonna let the system walk all over me.

Well I went down to the governor’s house and I took back what he stole from me:
Took back my dignity, took back my humanity.
Well I went down to the governor’s house and I took back what he stole from me.
Now he’s under my feet, under my feet,
Under my feet, under my feet
Ain’t gonna let the system walk all over me.

Roll the Union On (John Handcox)

CHORUS:
G D
We’ve got to roll, we’ve got to roll, we’ve got to roll the union on!
(D) D7 G
We’ve got to roll, we’ve got to roll, we’ve got to roll the union on!

(G) D G
And if the boss is in the way we’ve got to roll it over him, roll it over him, roll it over him.
(G) D D7 G
And if the boss is in the way we’ve got to roll it over him, we’ve got to roll the union on.

CHORUS

27
And if the planter’s in the way we’ve got to roll it over him, roll it over him, roll it over him.
And if the planter’s in the way we’ve got to roll it over him, we’ve got to roll the union on.

CHORUS

And if the foreman’s in the way we’ve got to roll it over him, roll it over him, roll it over him.
And if the foreman’s in the way we’ve got to roll it over him, we’ve got to roll the union on.

CHORUS

Solidarity Forever (Ralph Chaplin)

C
When the union's inspiration through the workers' blood shall run,
Am G
There can be no power greater anywhere beneath the sun.
C Am
Yet what force on earth is weaker than the feeble strength of one?
G G7 C
But the union makes us strong!

CHORUS:
(C) F C F Am
Solidarity forever, solidarity forever, solidarity forever
G G7 C
For the Union makes us strong!

Is there ought we hold in common with the greedy parasite

Who would lash us into serfdom and would crush us with his might?
Is there anything that’s left to us but to organize and fight?
For the union makes us strong!

CHORUS

It is we who ploughed the prairies, built the cities where they trade,
Dug the mines and built the workshops, endless miles of railroad laid.
Now we stand outcast and starving ‘midst the wonders we have made,
But the union makes us strong!

CHORUS

All the world that's owned by idle drones is ours and ours alone--
We have laid the wide foundations, built it skyward stone by stone
It is ours! Not to slave in but to master and to own
While the union makes us strong!

CHORUS

28
They have taken untold millions that they never toiled to earn
But without our brain and muscle not a single wheel can turn.
We can break their haughty power, gain our freedom when we learn
That the union makes us strong!

CHORUS

In our hands is placed a power greater than their hoarded gold,

Greater than the might of armies magnified a thousand fold.
We can bring to birth a new world from the ashes of the old
For the union makes us strong!

CHORUS

This Land is Your Land (Woody Guthrie)

C G
As I was walking that endless highway
D D7 G
I saw above me that endless skyway;
C G Em
I saw below me that golden valley--
D D7 G
This land was made for you and me!

CHORUS:
This land is your land, this land is my land,
From California to the New York island.
From the redwood forests to the Gulf Stream waters
This land was made for you and me!

I roamed and I rambled, and I followed my footsteps

To the sparkling sands of her diamond deserts.
And all around me a voice was sounding:
This land was made for you and me!

CHORUS

The sun came shining as I was strolling

With the wheat fields waving and the dust clouds rolling.
As the fog was lifting a voice was chanting
This land was made for you and me!

CHORUS

On the streets of the city, in the shadow of a steeple

By the relief office I saw my people.

29
As they stood there hungry I stood there wondering:
Was this land made for you and me?

CHORUS

As I was walking, I saw a sign there

And on the sign it said “no trespassing”.
But on the other side it didn’t say nothing--
That side was made for you and me!

CHORUS

Nobody living can ever stop me

As I go walking that freedom highway.
Nobody living can make me turn back
This land was made for you and me.

CHORUS

Union Maid (Woody Guthrie)

G C G
There once was a union maid who never was afraid
D7 G A7 D
11
Of the goons and the ginks and the company finks and the deputy sheriffs who made the raid.
G C G
She went to the union hall when a meeting it was called
D7 G A7 D G
And when the company boys came around she always stood her ground.

CHORUS:
C G
Oh you can’t scare me! I’m sticking with the union
D7 G
I’m sticking with the union, I’m sticking with the union.
C G
Oh you can’t scare me! I’m sticking with the union
D7 G
I’m sticking with the union ‘til the day I die.

This union maid was wise to the tricks of company spies;

She wouldn’t be fooled by company stools, she’d always organize the guys!
She always got her way when she struck for better pay
She’d show her card to the National Guard and here is what she’d say:

CHORUS

11
Goon: a company thug. Gink: a foolish person. Fink: a mole for the bosses.

30
You women who want to be free just take a tip from me
Break out of the mold you’ve all been sold--you’ve got a fighting history!
The fight for women’s rights with workers must unite!
Like Mother Jones, bestir them bones to the front of every fight.12

CHORUS

We Have Fed You All for a Thousand Years (unknown IWW poet)

G D D7 G
We have fed you all for a thousand years--but still we remain unfed
(G) D D7 G
Though there’s never a dollar of all your wealth but marks the workers’ dead.
C G Am7 D
We have given our best to give you rest, now you lie on crimson wool…
G D D7 G
But if blood be the price of your awful wealth, my God we have paid in full!

There is never a mine blown skyward now but we’re buried alive for you.
There is never a ship wrecked shoreward now but we were its ghastly crew.
Come and number our dead in the mill lofts red, and the factories where we spin--
‘Cause if blood be the price of your cursed wealth, my God we have paid it in!

We have fed you all for a thousand years for that was our doom you know.
From the days when you chained us in your fields to the strikes of a week ago.
You have taken our lives, husbands, babies and wives and you call it your legal share--
Well if blood be the price of your lawful wealth, my God we have paid it fair!

Which Side Are You On? (Florence Reese)

Am
Come all you coal miners, good news to you I’ll tell
(Am) Em Am
About how the good old union is coming here to dwell.

CHORUS
(Am) G (G) Am
Which side are you on? Which side are you on? (x2)

They say in Harlan County, there are no neutrals there:

You’ll either be a union man or a thug for J. H. Blair13.

CHORUS

12
This verse was added later, by Pete Seeger, as Guthrie’s original third verse was considerably sexist.
13
J. H. Blair was the sheriff of Harlan County, Kentucky. He had deputized armed mercenaries who were hired by
mine operators to terrorize the families of strikers and union organizers in 1931.

31
They say they need to guard us to educate their child
Their children ride in limousines and ours are almost wild.

CHORUS

Oh workers, can you stand it? Lord tell me how you can!
Would you be a lousy scab or would you be a man?

CHORUS

Don’t scab for the bosses, don’t listen to their lies!

We poor folks haven’t got a chance unless we organize.

My daddy was a miner and I’m a miner’s son

And we’ll stick with the union until every battle’s won.

CHORUS

32