Joe Hill

Joe Hill

First appearence, long verrion, 36th edition.

Joe Hill came over from Sweden's shore

Looking for some work to do;

And the Statue of Liberty waved him by

As Joe come a-sailing through, Joe Hill;

As Joe came a-sailing through.

Oh, his clothes were coarse, and his hopes were high,

As he headed for the Promised Land.

And it took a few weeks on the out-of-work streets

Before he began to understand, before he began to understand.

Then he got hired by a Bowery bar, sweeping up a saloon.

As his rag would sail o'er the barroam rail,

It sounded like he whistled on a tune,

You could almost hear him whistling on a tune.

And Joe rolled on from job to job,

From the docks to the railroad line.

And no matter how hungry the hand that wrote,

In his letters he was always doing fine, (repeat)

The years went by like the sun going down,

Slowly turned the page.

And when Joe looked back on the sweat on his tracks,

He had nothing to show but his age, (repeat)

So he headed out to California shore,

There things were just as bad;

So he joined the Industrial Workers of the World,

‘Cause the Union was the only friend he had, (repeat)

The strikes were bloody; and the strikes were bad,

As hard as they were long.

In the dark of the night, Joe would stay awake and write,

In the moming he would wake them with a song, (repeat)

He wrote his works to the tunes of the day,

To be passed along the union vine.

And the strikes were led; and the songs were spread.

And Joe Hill was always on the line, (repeat)