Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Talking Union, artist - Woody Guthrie. Album song This Land Is Your Land - 100 Songs of Protest, in the genre Поп
Date of issue: 15.07.2012
Record label: AP
Song language: English
Talking Union |
Now, if you want higher wages let me tell you what to do |
You got to talk to the workers in the shop with you |
You got to build you a union, got to make it strong |
But if you all stick together, boys, it won’t be long |
You get shorter hours, better working conditions |
Vacations with pay. |
Take your kids to the seashore |
It ain’t quite this simple, so I better explain |
Just why you got to ride on the union train |
'Cause if you wait for the boss to raise your pay |
We’ll all be a-waitin' 'til Judgment Day |
We’ll all be buried, gone to heaven |
St. Peter’ll be the straw boss then |
Now you know you’re underpaid but the boss says you ain’t; |
He speeds up the work 'til you’re 'bout to faint |
You may be down and out, but you ain’t beaten |
You can pass out a leaflet and call a meetin' |
Talk it over, speak your mind |
Decide to do somethin' about it |
Course, the boss may persuade some poor damn fool |
To go to your meetin' and act like a stool |
But you can always tell a stool, though, that’s a fact |
He’s got a yaller streak a-runnin' down his back |
He doesn’t have to stool, he’ll always get along |
On what he takes out of blind men’s cups |
You got a union now, and you’re sittin' pretty |
Put some of the boys on the steering committee |
The boss won’t listen when one guy squawks |
But he’s got to listen when the union talks |
He’d better, be mighty lonely |
Everybody decide to walk out on him |
Suppose they’re working you so hard it’s just outrageous |
And they’re paying you all starvation wages |
You go to the boss and the boss would yell |
«Before I raise your pay I’d see you all in hell.» |
Well, he’s puffing a big seegar, feeling mighty slick |
'Cause he thinks he’s got your union licked |
Well, he looks out the window and what does he see |
But a thousand pickets, and they all agree: |
He’s a bastard, unfair, slavedriver |
Bet he beats his wife! |
Now, boys, you’ve come to the hardest time |
The boss will try to bust your picket line |
He’ll call out the police, the National Guard |
They’ll tell you it’s a crime to have a union card |
They’ll raid your meetin', they’ll hit you on the head |
They’ll call every one of you a goddam red |
Unpatriotic, Japanese spies, sabotaging national defense! |
But out at Ford, here’s what they found |
And out at Vultee, here’s what they found |
And out at Allis-Chalmers, here’s what they found |
And down at Bethlehem, here’s what they found: |
That if you don’t let red-baiting break you up |
And if you don’t let stoolpigeons break you up |
And if you don’t let vigilantes break you up |
And if you don’t let race hatred break you up |
You’ll win. |
What I mean, take it easy, but take it! |