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'2010/07/26'에 해당되는 글 17건

THE WHITE SLAVE (Red Songbook)

2010/07/26

WHADDA YA WANT TO BREAK YOUR BACK FOR THE BOSS FOR? (Red Songbook)

2010/07/26

THE TRAMP (Red Songbook)

2010/07/26

UP FROM YOUR KNEES (Red Songbook)

2010/07/26

ALL HELL CAN'T STOP US! (Red Songbook)

2010/07/26

DUMP THE BOSSES OFF YOUR BACK (Red Songbook)

2010/07/26

SCISSOR BILL (Red Songbook)

2010/07/26

JOHN GOLDEN AND THE LAWRENCE STRIKE (Red Songbook)

2010/07/26

WORKERS OF THE WORLD (Red Songbook)

2010/07/26

HARVEST WAR SONG (Red Songbook)

2010/07/26

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THE WHITE SLAVE (Red Songbook)

외국 민중가요 - 2010/07/26 19:32

***********************************************************

I.W.W. Songs

To Fan the Flames of Discontent

Nineteenth Edition, 1923

***********************************************************

THE WHITE SLAVE

- By Joe Hill

(Air: "Meet Me Tonight in Dreamland")

One little girl, fair as a pearl,

Worked every day in a laundry;

All that she made, for food she paid,

So she slept on a park bench so soundly;

An old procuress spied her there,

She came and whispered in her ear:

** CHORUS

Come with me now, my girly,

Don't sleep out in the cold;

Your face and tresses curly

Will bring you fame and gold,

Automobiles to ride in, diamonds and silk to wear,

You'll be a star bright, down in the red light,

You'll make your fortune there.

Same little girl, no more a pearl,

Walks all alone 'long the river,

Five years have flown, her health is gone,

She would look at the water and shiver,

Where’re she'd stop to rest and sleep,

She'd hear a voice call from the deep:

Girls in this way, fall every day,

And have been falling for ages,

Who is to blame? You know his name,

It's the boss that pays starvation wages.

A homeless girl can always hear

Temptations calling everywhere.

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WHADDA YA WANT TO BREAK YOUR BACK FOR THE BOSS FOR? (Red Songbook)

외국 민중가요 - 2010/07/26 19:31

***********************************************************

I.W.W. Songs

To Fan the Flames of Discontent

Nineteenth Edition, 1923

***********************************************************

WHADDA YA WANT TO BREAK YOUR BACK FOR THE BOSS FOR?

(Tune: "What Do You Want to Make Those Eyes at Me For?")

Toiling along in light from morn 'til night,

Wearin' away your all for the Parasite;

Workin' like a mule with a number two,

Puffin' like a bellow when the day is through;

Steering a load of gravel through the muck and slop

Packing a hod o' mustard 'til you damn near flop;

Trying to bust a gut for two twenty‐five,

Pluggin' like a sucker 'til five.

** CHORUS

So whadda ya want to break your beck for the boss for,

When it don't mean life to you?

Do you think it right to struggle day and night,

And plow like Hell for the Parasite?

So whadda ya want to break your back for the boss for,

When there's more in life for you?

Slow up Bill! that's the way to beat the System;

Join the Wobbly Gang, they've got the bosses guessing.

So whadda ya want to break your back for the boss for,

When it don't mean life to you?

Do it all today and you'll soon find out,

Tomorrow there'll be nothing but to hang about,

Looking at the "job sign," wondering why you rave,

With a wrinkle on your belly like an ocean wave;

Doughnuts then begin to hang a little high,

You're pinched by the Bull for a "German spy";

You're nothing but a bum, says the Judge with a smile,

Thirty days on the Rock pile.

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THE TRAMP (Red Songbook)

외국 민중가요 - 2010/07/26 19:30

***********************************************************

I.W.W. Songs

To Fan the Flames of Discontent

Nineteenth Edition, 1923

***********************************************************

THE TRAMP

- By Joe Hill

(Tune: "Tramp, Tramp, Tramp, the Boys Are Marching.")

lf you all will shut your trap,

I will tell you 'bout a chap,

That was broke and up against it too, for fair;

He was not the kind to shirk,

He was looking hard for work,

But he heard the same old story everywhere.

** CHORUS

Tramp, tramp, tramp, keep on a‐tramping,

Nothing doing here for you;

If I catch you 'round again,

You will wear the ball and chain,

Keep on tramping, that's the best thing you can do.

He walked up and down the street,

Till the shoes fell off his feet.

In a house he spied a lady cooking stew,

And he said, "How do you do,

May I chop some wood for you?"

What the lady told him made him feel so blue.

'Cross the street a sign he read,

"Work for Jesus" so it said,

And he said, "Here is my chance, I'll surely try,"

And he kneeled upon the floor,

Till his knees got rather sore,

But at eating‐time he heard the preacher cry‐

Down the street he met a cop,

And the copper made him stop,

And he asked him, "When did you blow into town?

Come with me up to the judge,"

But the judge he said, "Oh fudge,

Bums that have no money needn't come around."

Finally came that happy day

When his life did pass away,

He was sure he'd go to heaven when he died,

When he reached the pearly gate,

Santa Peter, mean old skate,

Slammed the gate right in his face and loudly cried:

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UP FROM YOUR KNEES (Red Songbook)

외국 민중가요 - 2010/07/26 19:28

***********************************************************

I.W.W. Songs

To Fan the Flames of Discontent

Nineteenth Edition, 1923

***********************************************************

UP FROM YOUR KNEES

- By Ralph H. Chaplin

- (Air: "Song of a Thousand Years")

Up from your knees, ye cringing serfmen!

What have ye gained by whines and tears?

Rise! they can never break our spirits

Though they should try a thousand years.

** CHORUS

A thousand years, then speed the victory!

Nothing can stop us nor dismay.

After the winter comes the springtime;

After the darkness comes the day.

Break ye your chains; strike off your fetters;

Beat them to sword‐‐the foe appears‐

Slaves of the world, arise and crush him;

Crush him or serve a thousand years.

Join in the fight ‐‐the Final Battle.

Welcome the fray with ringing cheers.

These are the times all freemen dreamed of‐‐

Fought to attain a thousand years.

Be ye prepared; be not unworthy, ‐

Greater the task when triumph nears.

Master the earth, 0 Men of Labor,‐

Long have ye learned‐a thousand years.

Over the hills the sun is rising.

Out of the gloom the light appears.

See! at your feet the world is waiting,‐

Bought with your blood a thousand years.

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ALL HELL CAN'T STOP US! (Red Songbook)

외국 민중가요 - 2010/07/26 19:27

***********************************************************

I.W.W. Songs

To Fan the Flames of Discontent

Nineteenth Edition, 1923

***********************************************************

ALL HELL CAN'T STOP US!

- (Tune: "Hold the Fort")

- (Written by Ralph H. Chaplin, in Leavenworth Pen.)

Now the final battle rages;

Tyrants quake with fear.

Rulers of the New Dark Ages

Know THEIR end is near.

** CHORUS

Scorn to take the crumbs they drop us;

All is ours by right!

Onward, men! All Hell can't stop us!

Crush the Parasite!

With a world‐wide revolution

Bring them to your feet!

They of crime and persecution‐

They must work to eat!

Tear the mask of lies asunder;

Let the truth be known;

With a voice of angry thunder,

Rise and claim your own!

Down with Greed and Exploitation;

Tyranny must fall!

Hail to Toil's Emancipation;

Labor shall be all.

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DUMP THE BOSSES OFF YOUR BACK (Red Songbook)

외국 민중가요 - 2010/07/26 19:25

***********************************************************

I.W.W. Songs

To Fan the Flames of Discontent

Nineteenth Edition, 1923

***********************************************************

DUMP THE BOSSES OFF YOUR BACK

- By John Brill

(Tune: "Take It to the Lord in Prayer")

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.

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SCISSOR BILL (Red Songbook)

외국 민중가요 - 2010/07/26 19:24

***********************************************************

I.W.W. Songs

To Fan the Flames of Discontent

Nineteenth Edition, 1923

***********************************************************

SCISSOR BILL

- By Joe Hill

(Tune: "Steamboat Bill")

You may ramble 'round the country anywhere you will,

You’ll always run across the same old Scissor Bill.

He's found upon the desert, he is on the hill,

He's found in every mining camp and lumber mill.

He looks just like a human, he can eat and walk,

But you will find he isn't when he starts to talk.

He'll say, "This is my country," with an honest face,

While all the cops they chase him out of every place.

** CHORUS

Scissor Bill, he is a little dippy,

Scissor Bill, he has a funny face,

Scissor Bill should drown in Mississippi,

He is the missing link that Darwin tried to trace.

And scissor Bill, he couldn't live without the booze,

He sits around all day and spits tobacco juice.

He takes a deck of cards and tries to beat the Chink!

Yes, Bill would be a smart guy if he only could think

And Scissor Bill, he says, "This country must be freed

From Niggers, Japs and Dutchman and the gol durn Swede."

He says that every cop would be a native son

If it wasn't for the Irishman, the sonna fur gun.

Scissor Bill, the "foreigner" is cussin;

Scissor Bill, he says: "I hate a Coon";

Scissor Bill is down on everybody

The Hottentots, the bushmen and the man in the moon.

Don't try to talk your union dope to Scissor Bill,

He says he never organized and never will.

He always will be satisfied until he's dead,

With coffee and a doughnuts and a lousy old bed.

And Bill, he says, he gets rewarded thousand fold,

When he gets up to heaven on the streets of gold.

But I don't care who knows it, and right here I'll tell,

If Scissor Bill is goin' to Heaven, I'll go to Hell.

Scissor Bill, he wouldn't join the union,

Scissor Bill, he says, "Not me, by Heck!"

Scissor Bill gets his reward in Heaven,

Oh! sure. He'll get it, but he'll get it in the neck.

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JOHN GOLDEN AND THE LAWRENCE STRIKE (Red Songbook)

외국 민중가요 - 2010/07/26 19:22

***********************************************************

I.W.W. Songs

To Fan the Flames of Discontent

Nineteenth Edition, 1923

***********************************************************

JOHN GOLDEN AND THE LAWRENCE STRIKE

- By Joe Hill

(Tune: "A Little Talk with Jesus")

In Lawrence, when the starving masses struck for more to eat

And wooden‐headed Wood he tried the strikers to defeat,

To Sammy Gompers wrote and asked him what he thought,

And this is just the answer that the mailman brought:

** CHORUS

A little talk with Golden

Makes it right, all right;

He'll settle any strike,

If there's coin in sight;

Just take him up to dine

And everything is fine‐

A little talk with Golden

Makes it right, all right.

The preachers, cops and money‐kings were working hand in hand,

The boys in blue, with stars and stripes were sent by Uncle Sam;

Still things were looking blue, 'cause every striker knew

That weaving cloth with bayonets is hard to do.

John Golden had with Mr. Wood a private interview,

He told him how to bust up the "I double double U."

He came out in a while and wore the Golden smile.

He said: "I've got all labor leaders skinned a mile."

John Golden pulled a bogus strike with all his "pinks and stools."

He thought the rest would follow like a bunch of crazy fools.

But to his great surprise the "foreigners" were wise,

In one big solid union they were organized.

** CHORUS OF THE LAST VERSE

That's one time Golden did not

Make it right, all right;

In Spite of his schemes

The strikers won the fight.

When all the workers stand

United hand in hand,

The world with all its wealth

Will be at their command.

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WORKERS OF THE WORLD (Red Songbook)

외국 민중가요 - 2010/07/26 19:21

***********************************************************

I.W.W. Songs

To Fan the Flames of Discontent

Nineteenth Edition, 1923

***********************************************************

WORKERS OF THE WORLD

- (Air: "Lillibulero")

- By Connell

Stand up, ye toilers, why crouch ye like cravens?

Why clutch an existence of insult and want?

Why stand to be plucked by an army of ravens,

Or hoodwink'd forever by twaddle and cant?

Think of the wrongs ye bear,

Think on the rags ye wear,

Think on the insults endur'd from your birth;

Toiling in snow and rain,

Rearing up heaps of grain,

All for the tyrants who grind you to earth.

Your brains are as keen as the brains of your masters,

In swiftness and strength ye surpass them by far;

Ye've brave hearts to teach you to laugh at disasters,

Ye vastly outnumber your tyrants in war.

Why then like cowards stand,

Using not brain or hand,

Thankful like dogs when they throw you a bone?

What right have they to take

Things that ye toil to make?

Know ye not, workers, that all is your own?

Rise in your might, brothers, bear it no longer;

Assemble in masses throughout the whole land;

Show these incapables who are the stronger

When workers and idlers confronted shall stand.

Thro' Castle, Court and Hall,

Over their acres all,

Onwards we'll press like waves of the sea,

Claiming the wealth we've made,

Ending the spoiler's trade;

Labor shall triumph and mankind be free.

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HARVEST WAR SONG (Red Songbook)

외국 민중가요 - 2010/07/26 19:19

***********************************************************

I.W.W. Songs

To Fan the Flames of Discontent

Nineteenth Edition, 1923

***********************************************************

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 your 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 summ'r, 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 rave and shout.

And call us tramps and hoboes, and pesky go‐abouts.

But now the long 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.

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