Page:Songs of the Workers 15th Edition.djvu/17

 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.

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