Page:Songs of the Workers 15th Edition.djvu/64

 FIFTY THOUSAND LUMBERJACKS

(Tune: "Portland County Jail") Fifty thousand lumberjacks, fifty thousand packs, Fifty thousand dirty rolls of blankets on their backs, Fifty thousand minds made up to strike and strike like men; For fifty years they've "packed" a bed, but never will again. Fifty thousand wooden bunks full of things that crawl; Fifty thousand restless men have left them once for all. CHORUS One by one they dared not say, "Fat, the hours are long." If they did they'd hike—but now the'rethey're [sic] fifty thousand strong. Fatty Rich, we know you'reyour [sic] game, know your pride is pricked. Say—but why not be a man, and own when you are licked? They've joined the One Big Union—Gee. For goodness sake, "get wise"! The more you try to buck them now the more they organize.

Take a tip and start right in—plan some cozy rooms, Six or eight spring beds in each, with towels, sheets and brooms; Shower baths for men who work keeps them well and fit. A laundry, too, and drying room, would help a little bit. Get some dishes, white and clean; good pure food to eat. See that cook has help enough to keep the table neat.

Tap the bell for eight hours work; treat the boys like men, And fifty thousand lumberjacks may come to work again. Men who work should be well paid. "A man's a man for a' that." 

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