Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song You Souls Of Boston, artist - Woody Guthrie. Album song Ballads Of Sacco & Vanzetti, in the genre
Date of issue: 05.11.2019
Record label: Limitless Int
Song language: English
You Souls Of Boston |
You souls of Boston, bow your heads |
Our two most noble sons are dead |
Sacco and Vanzetti both have died |
And drifted out with the Boston tide |
'Twas on the outskirts of this town |
Some bandits shot two pay clerks down |
On old Pearl Street in South Braintree |
And they grabbed that money and rolled away |
Sacco and Vanzetti got arrested then |
On a trolley car by the plain clothed men |
Carried down to Brockton jail |
And laid away in a lonesome cell |
The folks in Plymouth town did say |
Vanzetti sold fish in Suassos Lane |
His fish cart was thirty-two miles away |
From old Pearl Street this fatal day |
Sacco’s family hugged and kissed their dad |
Said, «Take this family picture to the passport man.» |
He was in that office, forty odd miles away |
From old Pearl Street this fatal day |
One lady by the name of Eva Splaine |
Saw the robbers jump in their car and drive away |
For a second and a half she seen this speeding car |
She swore Sacco was the bandit man |
It was twenty, or thirty, or fifty more |
Said Sacco was not in the robber’s car |
Judge Webster Thayer stuck by Eva Splaine |
Said Sacco was the guilty man |
Mrs. Sacco was heavy then with child |
She walked to Sacco’s cell and cried |
The Morelli gang just down the corridor |
Signed confessions they killed the payroll guards |
«We seen Mrs. Sacco pregnant there |
We heard her cry and tear her hair |
We had to ease our guilty hearts |
And admit we killed the payroll guards.» |
Judge Webster Thayer could not allow |
The Morelli gang’s confession to stop him now |
Sacco and Vanzetti are union men |
And that verdict, guilty, must come in |
The bullet expert took the stand |
Said the bullets from the bodies of the two dead men |
Could not have been fired from Sacco’s gun |
Nor from Vanzetti’s gun have come |
It was sixty-three days this trial did last; |
Seven dark years come a-cripplin' past |
Locked down in that mean old Charlestown jail |
Then by an electric spark were killed |
Old Boston City was a dark old town |
That summer’s night in August the switch went down |
People they cried and marched and sung |
Every tongue this world around |