| Come and listen to my story, come and listen to my song
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| I will tell you of a hero, who’s now dead and gone
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| I will tell you of a young boy, whose age was nineteen
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| He was the bravest union man, that I have ever seen
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| Harry Simms was a palomine, we labored side by side
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| Expecting to be shot on sight, or taken for a ride
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| By them dirty cold operator gun-thugs, that roamed from town to town
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| A-shooting down the union men, where e’er they may be found
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| Harry Simms was walkin' down the track, one bright sun-shiney day
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| He was a youth of courage, his step was light and gay
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| He did not know the gun-thugs was hiding on the way
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| To kill our brave young comrade this bright sun-shiney day
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| Harry Simms was killed on Brush Creek, in nineteen thirty-two
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| He organized the miners, into the N.M.U
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| He gave his life in struggle, that was all that he could do
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| He died for the union, also for me and you |