I was workin in the North Woods on a hillside cut to hell
Setting chokers on a sketchy high-lead show
Then the boom went to bust and my paycheck went to dust

Ten months and I had nothing left to blow
So I stepped into a cold rain on the west road from Wenatchee
Cross the mountains and down to old Skid Row

I found a camp outside of town and a bowl of jungle stew
A bed of cardboard by the barrel-fire glow


And with the echoing gunshots of Ludlow and Everett
Ringing across a century's dead air
A girl played the violin with fingerless gloves

By the man with the thousand-yard stare
With the harp from my pocket and the rhythm in my feet
We sang like a pair of foxes in a snare

About a history rewritten to bury sedition
Beneath the parking lot at Rockefeller Square


"Joe Hill never died," the Rebel Girl cried
"I saw him on the long dusty road
He lives in our eyes and the railroad ties

Walking with the ghost of Tom Joad"

Greasy grimy drifters, hobos, tramps and bums

Work for nothin while your boxcar dreams of rain
Now they come across the desert, thru Juarez and El Paso
Trade the sweatshop for a slaughterhouse on the plains

And you can watch your children starve while they burn the golden fruit
The great failure that outweighs all our gains
Throw the heroes in a cage or kill them while they sleep

With axe handles and a spreading bloodstain

Like that night on the Chehalis when they lynched Wesley Everest

Strung him from a railroad bridge
Ninety years later and nothing's really changed
Militia's still camped up on the ridge

Like a Panther in his bedroom and a cabbie on Death Row
The firing squad for writing Rebel songs
Take AIM at Wounded Knee or the women in the mill

The killing starts whenever we get strong





"Joe Hill never died," the Rebel Girl cried

"He lives in our blood and our bones
He leads the striker's line, singing so fine
Walking with the ghost of Mother Jones"


Winnipeg in '19, Seattle in '99
Chicago in 1968

Bread and Roses in Lawrence and the chance to take a stand
But we can't fight hatred with hate
So Fellow Workers hear the call: Revolution Starts Inside!

Find your demons and the world you want to make
We're all leaders, that's the secret - shout it down the years:
Never let your fears decide your fate


So this one's for Lucy Parsons and Emma Goldman too
And the Triangle Shirtwaist women dead and burnt

This one's for Rosa'sharn's baby and every mother too
And all the kids who died so ours wouldn't have to work
This one's for Ani and Utah and Elizabeth Cotton too

And everyone who sings to what we're worth
You can find us in the forests and the city deserts too
From the mountains to the edges of the earth


-Choruses 1 & 2-