This ones for the workers
who tired night and day
by hand and by brain
to earn your pay
Who for centuries gone past
for no more than your bread
have bled for your countries
and counted your dead
In the factories and mills
in the shipyards and mines
We've often been told to
keep up with the times
For our skills are not needed
theyve streamlined the job
with slide rule and stopwatch
OUR PRIDE they have wrought
[chorus]
We're the first ones to starve
We're the first ones to die
The first ones in line for
That pie in the sky
And we're always the last
When the cream is shared out
For the worker is working
When the fat cat's about
And when the skies dark
and the prospect is war
who's given a gun
and then pushed to the fore
And expected to die
for the land of our birth
though we've never owned one
lousy hand full of earth
[Chorus x3]
And all these things,
the worker has done
From tilling the field,
to carrying the gun
We've been yoked to the plow
since time first began
And always espected
to carry the can.
