paroles de chanson Talking Union - The Almanac Singers
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!
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