Page:Songs of the workers 9th Edition.pdf/34

  One day as I was walking along the railroad track, I met a man in Wheatland with his blankets on his back, He was an old-time hop picker, I'd seen his face before, I knew he was a wobbly, by the button that he wore. By the button that he wore, by the button that he wore I knew he was a wobbly, by the button that he wore.

He took his blankets off his back and sat down on the rail And told us some sad stories 'bout the workers down in jail. He said the way they treat them there,he never saw the like, For they're putting men in prison just for going out on strike, Just for going out on strike, just for going out on strike, They're putting men in prison, just for going out on strike.

They have sentenced Ford and Suhr, and they've got them in the pen, If they catch a wobbly in their burg, they him there and then. There is one thing I can tell you, and it makes the bosses sore, As fast as they can pinch us, we can always get some more. We can always get some more, we can always get some more, As fast as they can pinch us, we can always get some more.

Oh, Horst and Durst are mad as hell, they don't know what to do. And the rest of those hop barons are all feeling mighty blue. Oh, we've tied up all their hop fields, and the scabs refuse to come, And we're going to keep on striking till we put them on the bum. Till we put them on the bum, till we put them on the bum, We're going to keep on striking till we put them on the bum. 