| I got a job just shifting beer
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| Straight out of school, straight into here
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| I got a job pays none too well
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| But every Friday I can tell them go to hell
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| This place is noisy and full of dust & shit
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| This jobs dead lousy but I can’t get out of it
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| Come every Friday I see an old man
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| Sat back from the bar in the smoke room
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| He’s been through battles
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| He’s seen some hard ones
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| I fought and lost he said
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| But let me tell you this son
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| Your only weapon
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| Is those you work with
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| Your strength is their strength
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| Can’t beat the rank and file
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| Go get organized!
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| I joined the union & started signing up
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| I found a man ten years a member
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| And all this time he’s been holin' up, hiding quiet
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| We pressed the govnor for improved conditions
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| And found ourselves on strike for union recognition
|
| I seen the old man in the smoke room
|
| He’s been through battles
|
| He’s seen some hard ones
|
| I fought and lost he said
|
| But let me tell you this son
|
| Your only weapon
|
| Is those you work with
|
| Your strength is their strength
|
| Can’t beat the rank and file
|
| Go get organized!
|
| Come every Friday I see an old man
|
| Sat back from the bar in the smoke room
|
| He’s been through battles
|
| He’s seen some hard ones
|
| I fought and lost he said
|
| But let me tell you this son
|
| Your only weapon
|
| Is those you work with
|
| Your strength is their strength
|
| Can’t beat the rank and file
|
| Go get organized! |