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# Songs of the Workers (15th edition)/The Parasites

THE PARASITES By John E. Nordquist (Tune: "Annie Laurie")
Parasites in this fair country, live from honest labor's sweat; There are some who never labor, yet labor's product get; They never starve or freeze, nor face the wintry breeze; They are well fed, clothed and sheltered, And they do whate'er they please.
These parasites are living, i nluxury and state; While millions starve and shiver, and moan their wretched fate; They know not why they die, nor do they ever try Their lot in life to better; They only mourn and sigh.
These parasites would vanish and leave this grand old world. If the workers fought together, and the scarlet flag unfurled; When in One Union grand, the working class shall stand, The parasites will vanish. And the workers rule the land.
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.
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# Songs of the Workers (15th edition)/Overalls and Snuff

Wheatland Hop Riot
OVERALLS AND SNUFF (Tune: "Wearing of the Green")
One day as I was walking along the railroad track, I met a man in Wheatland with his blankets on his back, He was an old-time hop picker, I'd seen his face before, I knew he was a wobbly, by the button that he wore. I knew he was a wobbly, by the button that he wore.
He took his blankets off his back and sat down on the rail And told us some sad stories 'bout the workers down in jail. He said the way they treat them there, he never saw the like, For they're putting men in prison just for going out on strike, Just for going out on strike, just for going out on strike, They're putting men in prison, just for going out on strike.
They have sentenced Ford and Suhr, and they've got them in the pen, If they catch a wobbly in their burg, they vag him there and then. There is one thing I can tell you, and it makes the bosses sore, As fast as they can pinch us, we can always get some more. We can always get some more, we can always get some more. As fast as they can pinch us, we can always get some more.
Oh, Hurst and Durst are mad as hell, they don't know what to do.
And the rest of those hop barons are all feeling mighty blue. Oh, we've tied up all their hop fields, and the scabs refuse to come, And we're going to keep on striking till we put them on the bum. Till we put them on the bum, till we put them on the bum, We're going to keep on striking till we put them on the bum.
Now, we've got to stick together, boys, and strive with all our might, We must free Ford and Suhr, boys, we've got to win this fight. From these scissor bill hop barons we are taking no more bluff, We'll pick no more damned hops for them, for overalls and snuff, For our overalls and snuff, for our overalls and snuff, We'll pick no more damned hops for them, for overalls and snuff.
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
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# Songs of the Workers (15th edition)/Organize!

ORGANIZE! (Tune: "The Green Fields of Dunmoor") By James J. Ferriter
Come all you exploited workingmen And fight for Freedom's cause, For you are bound, both hand and foot, By capitalistic laws; Your voices you can raise no more, Your lips you now must seal, For if you rise to speak a word A gun-man's at your heel.
Come on, unite, my hearty boys, And fight the common foe; The rustling card with all its faults This time must surely go. The "seven days" and "safety first," Alas, they are no more, So now's your time to fall in line At Freedom's onward roll.
Our master is a "patriot" true, Red wealth he has galore, And all good things that Labor brings, He's locked up in his store; But if, like men, you'll organize, His reign will be no more, And he will go where he belongs A shoveling copper ore.
Remember, then, the six hour day Must be our first demand; For miners from our ranks each day From death receive a call;
The miner's "con" you soon will see Will lose its deadly pall, And we'll make this camp a grand old spot For the workers, one and all.
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
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# Songs of the Workers (15th edition)/One Big Industrial Union

ONE BIG INDUSTRIAL UNION By G. G. Allen (Air: "Marching Through Georgia")
Bring the good old red book, boys, we'll sing another song. Sing it to the wage slave who has not yet joined the throng Of the revolution that will sweep the world along, To One Big Industrial Union.
CHORUS
Hooray! Hooray! The truth will make you free. Horray! Horray! When will you workers see? The only way you'll gain your economic liberty, Is One Big Industrial Union.
Now the harvest String Trust they would move to Germany. The silk Bosses of Paterson, they also want to flee From strikes and labor troubles ,but they cannot get away From One Big Industrial Union.
You migratory workers of the common labor clan, We sing to you to join and be a fighting Union Man; You must emancipate yourself, you proletarian, With One Big Industrial Union.
CHORUS
Hooray! Hooray! Let's set the wage slave free. Hooray! Hooray! With every victory We'll hum the workers' an them till you finally must be In One Big Industrial Union.
For every dollar the parasite has and didn't work for there's a slave who worked for a dollar he didn't get.
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.
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# Songs of the Workers (15th edition)/Onward, "One Big Union!"

ONWARD, "ONE BIG UNION! By Ralph Cheney (To be sung to the tune of "Onword, Chistian Soldiers")
Onward, One Big Union, Joy and justice led, With the Free Society Shining out ahead! Freedom, our one master, Leads against the foe.
Forward unto battle We, the workers go. Onward, One Big Union, Joy and justice led, With the Free Society Shining out ahead!
War and wrong shall perish Poverty shall cease. Hatred, wrath, and slavery Yield to joy and peace.
(REFRAIN)
Gates of jails can never Gainst our will prevail. We've the world's one power; And we cannot fail.
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.
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# Songs of the Workers (15th edition)/The Message From O'er the Sea

THE MESSAGE FROM O'ER THE SEA (Tune: "Don't Bite the Hand That's Feeding You")
One day as I sat pining A message of cheer came to me, A light of revolt was shining On a country far over the sea, The forces of rules to sever And the flag of the earth to unfold To secure our freedom forever And a world of beauty untold.
CHORUS
All hail to the Bolsheviki! We will fight for our Class and be free, A Kaiser, King or Czar, no matter which you are You're nothing of interest to me; If you don't like the red flag of Russia, If you don't like the spirit so true, Then just be like the cur in the story And lick the hand that's robbing you.
We have lived in meek submission Thru ages of toil and despair, To comply with the plutes' ambition With never a thought nor a care. An echo from Russia is sounding 'Tis the chimes of a True Liberty, Its a message for millions resounding To throw off your chains and be free.
YOU cannot be free while your CLASS is enslaved. Join the I. W. W. and find YOUR place in the final battle for the emancipation of the world's workers.
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.
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# Songs of the Workers (15th edition)/The Workers' Marseillaise

THE WORKERS' MARSEILLAISE
Ye sons of toil, awake to glory! Hark, hark, what myriads bid you rise; Your children, wives and grandsires hoary— Behold their tears and hear their cries! Behold their tears and hear their cries! Shall hateful tyrants mischief breeding, With hireling hosts, a ruffian band— Affright and desolate the land, While peace and liberty lie bleeding?
CHORUS:
To arms! to arms! ye brave! Th' avenging sword unsheathe! March on, march on, all hearts resolved On Victory or Death.
With luxury and pride surrounded, The vile, insatiate despots dare, Their thirst for gold and power unbounded To mete and vend the light and air, To mete and vend the light and air, Like beasts of burden, would they load us, Like gods would bid their slaves adore, But Man is Man, and who is more? Then shall they longer lash and goad us?
O, Liberty! can man resign thee? Once having felt thy generous flame, Can dungeon's bolts and bars confine thee? Our whips, thy noble spirit tame? Our whips, thy noble spirit tame? Too long the world has wept bewailing, That Falsehood's dagger tyrants wield; But Freedom is our sword and shield; And all their arts are unavailing!
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
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# Songs of the Workers (15th edition)/The Internationale

THE INTERNATIONALE By Eugene Pottier (Translated by Charles H. Kerr.)
Arise, ye prisoners of starvation! Arise, ye wretched of the earth, For justice thunders condemnation, A better world's in birth. No more tradition's chains shall bind us, Arise, ye slaves; no more in thrall! The earth shall rise on new foundations, We have been naught, we shall be all.
REFRAIN
'Tis the final conflict, Let each stand in his place, The Industrial Union Shall be the human race.
We want no condescending saviors. To rule us from a judgment hall; We workers ask not for their favors; Let us consult for all. To make the thief disgorge his booty To free the spirit from its cell,
We must ourselves decide our duty, We must decide and do it well.
The law oppresses us and tricks us, Wage systems drain our blood; The rich are free from obligations, The laws the poor delude. Too long we've languished in subjection, Equality has other laws; "No rights" says she, "without their duties, No claims on equal without cause."
Behold them seated in their glory, The kings of mine and rail and soil! What have you read in all their story, But how they plundered toil? Fruits of the workers' toil are buried In the strong coffers of a few; In working for their restitution The men will only ask their due.
Toilers from shops and fields united, The union we of all who work; The earth belongs to us, the workers, No room here for the shirk. How many on our flesh have fattened! But if the noisesome birds of prey Shall vanish from the sky some morning, The blessed sunlight will stay.
A shorter work day for all employed workers would put thousands of unemployed to work. If everybody worked there would be no poverty.
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.
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# Songs of the Workers (15th edition)/In Memory

IN MEMORY (Air: "The Memory of the Dead") By James J. Ferriter
The long, long wished for hour has come But come, I hope, not in vain, When workingmen in One Union Grand Will Liberty proclaim. We've fought on many a battle field Our Cause to maintain, And here today we stand as one— True Wobblies once again.
It was in the year of seventeen, On August the first day, The tyrant dogs of the master class Our hero bold did slay; We do not fear their lynching threats, Their gunmen nor their jails, And here today we stand as one— Our Union never fails.
Oh, cruel was this martyrdom Suffered by our patriot bold, When dragged upon the rough paved streets, All for the greed of gold; Sure, Christ himself, when on this earth Suffered on the Cross of Calvary His life for freedom gave.
Here's to your Memory Frank Little, Though dead and in your grave; For the worker's Cause you fought so hard And your precious life you gave.
But though you've gone your're not forgot— Your work lives just the some, For since you left we've organized In honor of your name!
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.
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# Songs of the Workers (15th edition)/Hold the Fort

HOLD THE FORT (English Transport Worker's Strike Song)
We meet today in Freedom's cause , And raise our voices high; We'll join our hands in union strong, To battle or to die.
CHORUS:
Hold the fort for we are coming— Union men, be strong. Side by side we battle onward, Victory will come.
Look, my Comrades, see the union Banners waving high. Reinforcements now appearing, Victory is nigh.
See our numbers still increasing; Hear the bugle blow. By our union we shall thriumph Over every foe.
Fierce and long the battle rages, But we will not fear. Help will come whene'er it's needed, Cheer, my Comrades, cheer.
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
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# Songs of the Workers (15th edition)/Harvest War Song

HARVEST WAR SONG By Pat Brennan (Tune: "Tipperary")
We are coming home, John Farmer; we are coming back to stay. For nigh on fifty years or more, we've gathered up your hay. We have slept out in wour hayfields, we have heard your morning shout; We've heard you wondering where in hell's them pesky go-abouts?
CHORUS:
It's a long way, now understand me; it's a long way to town; It's a long way across the prairie, and to hell with Farmer John. Here goes for better wages, and the hours must come down; For we're out for a winter's stake this summer, and we want no scabs around.
You've paid the going wages, that's what kept us on the bum. You say you've done your duty, you chin-whiskered son of a gun. We have sent your kids to college, but still you want rave and shout. And call us tramps and hoboes, and pesky go-abouts.
But now the wintry breezes are a-shaking our poor frames, And the long drawn days of hunger try to drive us boes insane. It is driving us to action—we are organized today; Us pesky tramps and hoboes are coming back to stay.
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.
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# Songs of the Workers (15th edition)/Fifty Thousand Lumberjacks

FIFTY THOUSAND LUMBERJACKS (Tune: "Portland County Jail")
Fifty thousand lumberjacks, fifty thousand packs, Fifty thousand dirty rolls of blankets on their backs, Fifty thousand minds made up to strike and strike like men; For fifty years they've "packed" a bed, but never will again. Fifty thousand wooden bunks full of things that crawl; Fifty thousand restless men have left them once for all.
CHORUS
One by one they dared not say, "Fat, the hours are long." If they did they'd hike—but now the're fifty thousand strong. Fatty Rich, we know you're game, know your pride is pricked. Say—but why not be a man, and own when you are licked? They've joined the One Big Union—Gee. For goodness sake, "get wise"! The more you try to buck them now the more they organize.
Take a tip and start right in—plan some cozy rooms, Six or eight spring beds in each, with towels, sheets and brooms; Shower baths for men who work keeps them well and fit. A laundry, too, and drying room, would help a little bit. Get some dishes, white and clean; good pure food to eat. See that cook has help enough to keep the table neat.
Tap the bell for eight hours work; treat the boys like men, And fifty thousand lumberjacks may come to work again. Men who work should be well paid. "A man's a man for a' that."
Many a man has a home to keep same as yourself, Old Fat. Mothers, sisters, sweethearts, wives, children, too, galore, Stand behind the men to win this bread and butter war.
"Such a lot of devils," that's what the papers say— "They've gone on strike for shorter hours and some increase in pay. They left the camps, the lazy tramps, they all walked out as one; They say they'll win the strike or put the bosses on the bum."
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.
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# Songs of the Workers (15th edition)/Gone are the Days

GONE ARE THE DAYS
By Richard Brazier (Tune: "Old Black Joe")
Gone are the days, when the master class could say, "We'll work you long hours for little pay; We'll work you all day and half the night as well." But I hear the workers' voices saying, "You will, like Hell."
CHORUS
For we're going, to take an eight hour day. We surely will surprise the Boss some first of May.
Now, workmen, it's up to you to say If you want a general eight hour day. As soon as you are ready, we are with you heart and hand. All you have to do is to join our Union grand.
Now, workingmen, we are working far too long; That's why we've got this vast unemployed throng. Give every worker a chance to work each day; Let's all join together and to the Boss all say,
The I. W. W.; "Most Hated and Most Loved."
“For my part, I sympathize with them. While they are threatened and imprisoned I am manacled. If they are denied a living wage, I, too, am defrauded. While they are industrial slaves I cannot be free. My hunger is not satisfied while they are hindered and neglected. When they are flung out on a desert, under a scorching sun, I too, burn, and my soul is athirst. When one of them is dragged from his bed and hung to a railroad trestle, a great horror of darkness falls upon my spirit, and from the depths of my heart I cry out against those who persecute the weak and unfriended.—Helen Keller.
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
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# Songs of the Workers (15th edition)/Farewell, Joe!

FAREWELL, JOE! (Tune: "Farewell To Thee") By Richard Brazier
Proudly went out Joe unto his death With smiling lips and fearless eyes This message gave with his last breath "Don't mourn for me, but ORGANIZE."
CHORUS:
Farewell to you, thou rebel true Whose singing heart has charmed our weary hours Those last brave words, before you did depart Shall live forever in our hearts.
Though they stilled your rebel heart with lead And sealed with death your lips, our Joe, Those words, the last you ever said Will bring to the masters ruin and woe.
We have shed no bitter tears for thee Nor have we sighed the mournful sigh. We have fought the fight to make men free In the cause for which you had to die.
The wind sighs gladly o'er your grave A requiem joyfully for thee.
It seems to sing, the life you gave Will hasten that day of liberty.
CHORUS TO LAST STANZA
Farewell, Joe, you had to go. The masters had declared that you should die, Joe, But although you're gone into that great unknown Your memory long with us, shall live.
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
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# Songs of the Workers (15th edition)/Farewell, Frank!

Frank Little
FAREWELL, FRANK! (Air: "Barcarolle." from the "Tales of Hoffman") By Gerard J. Lively
You've fought your fight, a long good night Is all that we can say. Sleep on, sleep on, your work is done Brave fighter for the Day. Kind Mother Earth who gave you birth Receives you to her breast. For us the Fight, for you the night, The night of well earned rest, No more you'll feel the cling of steel, You've burst the prison bars, You gave your life in this our strife, Brave conqueror of stars. Sleep on, sleep on, your work is done Sleep on, sleep on, sleep on.
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.
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# Songs of the Workers (15th edition)/The Everett County Jail

THE EVERETT COUNTY JAIL (Tune: "Tramp, Tramp, Tramp, the Boys are Marching") By Wm. Whalen
In the prison cell we sit Are we broken hearted—nit We're as happy and as cheerful as can be, For we know that every wob Will be busy on the job, Till they swing the prison doors and set us free.
CHORUS
Are you busy Fellow Workers Are your shoulders to the wheel? Get together for the cause And some day you'll make the laws. It's the only way to make the masters squeal.
Though the living is not grand, Mostly mush and coffee and, It's as good as we excepted when we came. It's the way they treat the slave In this free land of the brave There is no one but the working class to blame
When McRea, and Veitch, and Black To the Lumberyards go back May they travel empty handed as they came. May they turn in their report That the wobs still hold the fort That a rebel is an awful thing to tame.
When the 65 per cent That they call the working gent Organizes in a Union of its class We will then get what we're worth That will be the blooming' earth. Organize and help to bring the thing to pass.
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
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# Songs of the Workers (15th edition)/Dump the Bosses off your Back

DUMP THE BOSSES OFF YOUR BACK (Tune: "Take It to the Lord in Prayer") By John Brill
Are you poor, forlorn and hungry? Are there lots of things you lack? Is your life made up of misery? Then dump the bosses off your back. Are your clothes all patched and tattered? Are you living in a shack? Would you have your troubles scattered? Then dump the bosses off your back.
Are you almost split asunder? Loaded like a long-eared jack? Boob—why don't you buck like thunder? And dump the bosses off your back. All the agonies you suffer, You can end with one good whack— Stiffen up, you orn'ry duffer— And dump the bosses off your back.
One Big Union tactics are simply the efficiency system applied to the class struggle.
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.
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