Protest Songs | radical journal | Edited by Saswat Pattanayak

Greenback Dollar :: Woody Guthrie

Fri, 04 Dec 2009 20:09:54 -0500

I don't want your millions, mister.

I don't want your diamond ring.

All I want is the right to live mister.

Give me back my job again.

I don't want your Rolls Royce, mister,

I don't want your pleasure yacht,

All I want is food for my babies,

Now give to me my old job back.

I don't want your millions, mister.

I don't want your diamond ring.

All I want is the right to live mister.

Give me back my job again.

We worked to build this country, mister,

While you enjoyed a life of ease.

You've stolen all that we've built, mister,

Now our children starve and freeze.

I don't want your millions, mister.

I don't want your diamond ring.

All I want is the right to live mister.

Give me back my job again.

Yes, you have a land deed, mister,

The money is all in your name.

But where's the work that you did, mister?

I'm demanding back my job again.

I don't want your millions, mister.

I don't want your diamond ring.

All I want is the right to live mister.

Give me back my job again.

Think me dumb if you wish, mister,

Call me green or blue or red.

There's just one thing that I know, mister,

Our hungry babies must be fed.

I don't want your millions, mister.

I don't want your diamond ring.

All I want is the right to live mister.

Give me back my job again.

We'll organize together, mister,

In one big united band,

And with a Farmer-Labor party

We will win our just demands.

I don't want your millions, mister.

I don't want your diamond ring.

All I want is the right to live mister.

Give me back my job again.

Take the two old parties, mister,

No difference in them I can see.

But with a Farmer-Labor party,

We will set the workers free.

A Tale of the Ticker :: Frank Crumit

Mon, 26 May 2008 10:26:30 -0400

This little pig went to market,

Where they buy and sell the stocks.

This little pig came home again,

With his system full of shocks.

I don't understand their language,

Don't know what its all about.

For a bull buys up and the bear sells down,

And a broker sells yo out.

And here is the song

They sing the whole day long.

CHORUS:

Oh the market's not so good today,

Your stocks look kind of sick.

In fact they all drop down a point,

Each time the tickers tick.

We'll have to have more margin now,

There isn't any doubt.

So you better dash with a load of cash,

Or we'll have to sell you out.

The stock exchange is a funny place,

Its the strangest place in town.

The seats cost half a million cash,

But the brokers won't sit down.

There's the broker, the bull, and the bear,

It's queer but its not a joke.

For you get the bull 'til your bankroll's bare,

And the broker says you're broke.

And here is the song

I hear the whole day long.

CHORUS

The market simply goes to prove,

That we still have loco weeds.

For the bull buys what he doesn't want,

And the bear sells what he needs.

I bought an elevator stock,

And thought that I'd done well.

Then the little bears all ran downstairs,

And rang the basement bell.

And here is the song

I heard the whole day long.

CHORUS

Brother, Can You Spare A Dime? :: Leo Reisman and His Orchestra

Mon, 26 May 2008 10:26:30 -0400

They used to tell me I was building a dream and so I followed the mob

When there was earth to plow, or guns to bear, I was always right there on the job

They used to tell me I was building a dream with peace and glory ahead

Why should I be standing in line just waiting for bread?

Once I built a railroad, I made it run

Made it race against time

Once I built a railroad, now its done

Brother, can you spare a dime?

Once I built a tower up to the sun

Brick and rivet and lime

Once I built a tower, now it's done

Brother, can you spare a dime?

Once in khaki suits, gee, we looked swell

Full of that Yankee Doodle Dee Dum

Half a million boots went through slogging through hell

And I was the kid with the drum

Say don't you remember? They called me Al

It was Al all the time

Why don't you remember? I'm your pal

Say, buddy, can you spare a dime?

It Must Be Swell :: Alex Bartha and His Hotel Traymore Orchestra

Mon, 26 May 2008 10:26:30 -0400

Everything is topsy-turvy with the world today

All the world is restless since depression came our way

So last night I went to sleep and dreamed that I had died

My weary body felt at ease and to myself I cried

Look at the flowers, they're certainly sweet