Dreadful memories, how they linger How they ever flood my soul How the workers and their children Died from hunger and from cold Hungry fathers, wearied mothers Living in those dreadful shacks Little children cold and hungry With no clothing on their backs Dreadful gun thugs and stool pigeons Always flock around our door What's the crime that we've committed? Nothing. only that we're poor Oh, those memories, how they haunt me Make me want to organize Makes me want to help the workers Make them open up their eyes When I think of all the heartaches And all the things that we've been through Then I wonder how much longer And what a working man can do Really, friends, it doesn't matter Whether you are black or white The only way you'll ever change things Is to fight and fight and fight We will have to join the union They will help you find a way How to get a better living And for your work get better pay