Page:Songs of the IWW 4th Australian Edition.pdf/34

32 

Where is my wandering boy to-night? The boy of his mother's pride? He's counting the ties with his bed on his back, Or else he's bumming a ride. His heart may be pure as the morning dew, But his clothes are a sight to see, He's pulled for a vag, his excuse won't do. "Thirty days," says the beak, you see. "I was looking for work, oh, sir," he said; Says the beak, "I have heard that before." So to join the chain-gang off he's led, To hammer the rocks some more. Don't search for your wandering boy to-night, Let him play the old game if he will; A worker, a bum, he'll never go right, As long as he's a wage slave still. 