Page:Songs of the Workers 15th Edition.djvu/24

  Packing a hod of 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 back 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.

"Yaas," said the farmer reflectively "All the I. W. W. fellers I've met seem to be pretty decent lads, but them "alleged I. W. W's. must be holy frights."

 19