Audio and Lyrics

Don’t Want Your Millions – Audio

Don’t Want Your Millions (U.S. Release) – Lyrics

  1. I Don’t Want Your Millions, Mister
  2. Rebel Girl
  3. Hard Travelin’
  4. Dying Mine Brakeman
  5. The Lumberjack’s Prayer
  6. Pennsylvania Miner
  7. I Ain’t Got No Home
  8. Bourgeois Blues
  9. The Coal Machine / What Will A Coal Miner Do?
  10. Do Re Mi
  11. Which Side Are You On?
  12. New Made Graves Of Centralia
  13. Death Of Mother Jones
  14. Dump The Bosses
  15. Scab’s Lament (a poem read by Studs Terkel)
  16. Heaven In Milwaukee (also available on Passion Politics Love)

 

I Don’t Want Your Millions, Mister
[ Jim Garland, Stormking Music ]

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 my old job back again
I don’t want your Rolls-Royce mister
I don’t want your pleasure yacht
All I want is food for my babies
Give me back my job again
We worked hard to build this country mister
While you lived a life of ease
Now you’ve stolen everything that we built mister
All my people starve and freeze
Think me dumb if you wish mister
Call me black or green, or blue, or red
But there’s one thing that I know mister
All these people should be fed

Rebel Girl
[ Joe Hill / Public Domain ]

There are women of many descriptions
In this queer world as everyone knows
Some are living in beautiful mansions
And wearing the finest of clothes.
There are blue-blooded queens and princesses
Who have charms made of diamonds and pearl
But the only and thoroughbred lady, is the Rebel Girl
That’s the Rebel Girl, the Rebel Girl
To the working class she’s a precious pearl
She brings courage, pride and joy
To the fighting Rebel boy
We’ve had girls before but we need some more
In the Industrial Workers of the World
For it’s great to fight for freedom
With the Rebel Girl.
Yes, her hands may be hardened from labor
And her dress may not be very fine
But a heart in her bosom is beating
That is true to her class and her kind
And the grafters in terror are trembling
When her spite and defiance she’ll hurl
For the only and thoroughbred lady, is the Rebel Girl

Hard Travelin’
[ Woody Guthrie / Ludlow Music ]

I been doin’ some hard travelin’, I thought you knowed
I been doin’ some hard travelin’, way on down the road
I been doin’ some hard ramblin’, hard drinkin’, hard gamblin’
I been doin’ some hard travelin’ lord.
I been ridin’ them fast rattlers, I thought you knowed
I been ridin’ them flat wheelers, way on down the road
I been ridin’ them dead enders, blind passengers, pickin’ up cinders
I been doin’ some hard travelin’ lord.
I been doin’ some hard rock minin’, I thought you knowed
I been leanin’ on a pressure drill, way on down the road
Hammer flyin’ the air hose suckin’ six feet of mud and I sure been a muckin’
I been doin’ some hard travelin’ lord.
I been doin’ some hard harvestin’, I thought you knowed
North Dakota to Kansas City, way on down the road
Cuttin’ wheat and stackin’ hay, tryin’ to make a dollar a day
I been doin’ some hard travelin’ lord.
I been lyin’ in a hardrock jail, I thought you knowed
I been lyin’ out ninety days, way on down the road
Damn old judge he said to me it’s ninety days for vagrancy
I been doin’ some hard travelin’ lord.
I been movin’ that red iron ore, I thought you knowed
I been shippin’ out Great Lakes sailin, way on down the road
Duluth, Superior, and Ashland too, every port before we’re through
I been doin’ some hard travelin’ lord.
I been walkin’ that Lincoln Highway, I thought you knowed
I been hittin’ that 66, way on down the road
Gotta heavy load and a worried mind, lookin’ for a woman that’s hard to find
I been doin’ some hard travelin’ lord.

Dying Mine Brakeman
[ Orville Jencks / Public Domain ]

See that brave and trembling motorman
Said his age is twenty-one.
See him stepping from his motor
Crying “Lord what have I done?”
“Have I killed my brave young coupler
Is it right that he is dying?
Well, I tried to stop the motor,
But I could not stop in time.”
See the car wheels runnin’ o’er him,
See them bend his weary head;
See his sister standing o’er him
Crying “Brother, are you dead?”
“Yes, sister I am dying
Soon I’ll reach a better shore,
Soon I’ll gain a home in heaven
Where this coupling is no more.”
“Tell my brother in the heading
These few words I’ll send to him;
Never, never venture coupling,
If he does, his life will end.”
“Tell my father, he’s a weighboss,
All he weighs to weigh it fair,
They will have true scales up yonder
At that meeting in the air.”
“Tell my mother I’ve gone to glory,
Not to grieve for me no more,
Just to meet me over yonder
On that bright and golden shore.”

The Lumberjack’s Prayer
[ T-Bone Slim / Public Domain ]

(spoken)

I pray dear Lord for Jesus’ sake
Give us this day a T-Bone steak
Hallowed be thy holy name,
But don’t forget to send the same.
Oh, hear my humble cry, Oh Lord,
And send us down some decent board,
Brown gravy and some German fried,
With sliced tomatoes on the side.
Oh, hear my cry, Almighty Host,
I quite forgot the Quail on Toast,
Let your kindly heart be stirred,
And stuff some oysters in that bird.
Dear Lord, we know your Holy wish,
On Friday we must have a fish,
Our flesh is weak and spirit stale,
You better make that fish a whale.
Oh, hear me lord, remove those “dogs”
These sausages of powder’d logs
Your bull beef hash and bearded Snouts,
Take them to hell or thereabouts.
With Alum bread and Pressed-Beef butts,
Dear Lord you damn near ruin’d my guts,
Your white-wash milk and Oleorine,
I wish to Christ I’d never seen.
Oh, hear me Lord, I am praying still,
But if you won’t, our union will,
Put porkchops on the bill of fare,
And starve no workers any where.

Pennsylvania Miner
[ Phillips Thompson / Public Domain]

Come listen fellow workingmen, my story I’ll relate
How workers in the coal mines fare in Pennsylvania state;
Come hear a sad survivor, from beside his children’s graves,
And learn how free Americans are treated now as slaves.
Chorus:
They robbed us of our pay
They starved us day by day
They shot us down on the hillside brown
And swore our lives away.
For years we toiled patiently, they cut our wages down
We struck, they sent the Pinkertons to drive us from that town;
We held a meeting near the mine, some hasty words were said,
A volley from the Pinkertons laid a half-a-dozen dead.
I had a little family, the youngest scarce could creep;
Next night the hireling ruffian band aroused us from our sleep;
They battered in our cabin door, we pleaded all in vain
They turned my wife and children out to perish in the rain.
They died of cold and famine, beneath the open sky
While pitying neighbors stood around, but all as poor as I;
You never saw such misery, God grant you never may,
The sight is branded on my soul until my dying day.
Half-crazed I wandered round the spot, beyond the edge of town
I met a dastard Pinkerton and struck that villain down,
My brain was frenzied with the thought of children, friends, and wife
I set my heel upon his throat and trampled out his life.
And now I roam an outlawed man, no house or friends have I,
For if the law can track me down I shall be doomed to die,
But very little should I care of what becomes of me,
If all the land would rise and swear such things no more shall be.

I Ain’t Got No Home
[ Woody Guthrie / Ludlow Music ]

I ain’t got no home, I’m just ramblin’ around
Hard workin’ man, I go from town to town
The police make it hard wherever I may go,
And I ain’t got no home in this world anymore
My brothers and my sisters came walkin’ down that road
A hot and dusty road that a million feet have trod
Rich man took my house and chased me from my door
I ain’t got no home in this world anymore
I was farmin’ on the shares and always I was poor
My crops I laid into the banker’s store
My wife took down and died upon our cabin floor
And I ain’t got no home in this world anymore
Now I’m just a rambler to see what I can see
This wide wicked world is a funny place to be
The gamblin’ man is rich and the workin’ man is poor
And I ain’t got no home in this world anymore

Bourgeois Blues
[ Huddie Ledbetter / Folkways Music ]

Tell all the colored folks to listen to me
Don’t try to buy no home in Washington, DC
Refrain:
It’s such a bourgeois town…it’s a bourgeois town
Got the bourgeois blues, gonna spread the news all around.
Me and my wife ran all over town
Everywhere we’d go , they’d turn us down
It’s such a bourgeois town…
Me and Martha we was standin’ downstairs
Heard the white man say: “I don’t want no nigger down there”
It’s such a bourgeois town…
White folks in Washington, they know how
To throw a colored man a nickel just to see him bow
It’s such a bourgeois town…
The D.A.R. wouldn’t let Marian Anderson in
But Mrs. Roosevelt was her best friend
It’s such a bourgeois town…
Home of the brave, land of the free
I don’t want to be mistreated by no bourgeoisie
It’s such a bourgeois town…

The Coal Machine / What Will A Coal Miner Do?
[ Public Domain]

Tell me, what will a coal miner do?
Tell me, what will a coal miner do?
When he goes down in the mine,
Joy loaders he will find.
Tell me, what will a coal miner do?
Miners’ poor pocketbooks are growing lean,
Miners’ poor pocketbooks are growing lean,
They can’t make a dollar at all,
Here is where we place the fault;
Place it all on that coal-loading machine
Now boys, I think I have a scheme,
And I’m sure that it’s neither rude nor mean.
We will pick our bone and refuse,
Then we’ll know our coal is clean,
Then we’ll outdo that coal-loading machine.

Do Re Mi
[ Woody Guthrie / Ludlow Music ]

Lots of folks back east they say
Are leavin’ here every day
Hittin’ that old dusty road
To the California line
Across the desert sands they roll
Gettin’ out of the old dust bowl
Think they’re goin’ to the sugar bowl
But this is what they find
The police at the port of entry say
You’re number 14,000 for today
Chorus:
If you ain’t got the do re mi
If you ain’t got the do re mi
You better go back to beautiful Texas
Oklahoma, Kansas, Georgia, Tennessee
California is a garden of Eden
A paradise to live in or see
But believe it or not
You won’t find it so hot
If you ain’t got the do re mi
If you wanna buy a home or farm
That can’t do nobody harm
Or take your vacation by the mountains or the sea
Don’t swap your old cow for a car
Better stay right where you are
You’d better take this little tip from me
Cause I look through the want ads every day
But the headlines on the papers always say
Chorus

Which Side Are You On?
[ Florence Reece / Stormking Music ]

Come all of you good workers
Good news to you I’ll tell
Of how the good old union
Come in here to dwell
Refrain:
Which side are you on?
Which side are you on?
They say in Harlan County
There are no neutrals there
You either work with the union
Or be a thug for J.H. Blair (refrain)
Don’t scab for the bosses
Don’t listen to their lies
Poor folks ain’t got a chance
Unless they organize (refrain)
Oh, workers can you stand it?
Tell me how you can
Will you be a lousy scab,
Or will you be a man? (refrain)
My daddy was a miner
And I’m a miner’s son
I’ll stick to the union
Till every battle’s won (refrain)

New Made Graves of Centralia
[ McCarty ]

The whole world sent a prayer to Centralia
As they waited the answer to come,
Just a word from that great mine disaster,
Just a word from those fathers and sons.
To those mothers and sweethearts awaiting,
When our hearts feel sincere sympathy,
Though the world waited then for an answer,
Surely they knew that answer would be.
New made graves facing east from Centralia
Hearts and homes filled with sadness and woe
Dust again took its toll on the living,
As they worked in the pits far below.
Though the night was so cold and so dreary,
Waiting there at the mouth of the mine,
Were the wives and the sweethearts and children,
Hoping, praying against fate and time.
As they waited there silently praying,
Once again their dear loved ones would see,
All those brave hearts below knew the answer,
Yes, they knew what that story would be.

Death Of Mother Jones
[ Anonymous ]

Today the world is mourning; the death of Mother Jones;
Grief and sorrow hover, around the miners’ homes.
This grand old champion of labor, has gone to another land,
But the hard working miners, will miss her guiding hand.
Through the hills and over the valleys, in every mining town,
Mother Jones was ready to help them, she never let them down.
In front with the striking miners, she always could be found,
She fought for right and justice, she took a noble stand.
With a spirit strong and fearless, she hated that which was wrong;
She never gave up fighting, until her breath was gone.
May the workers all get together, to carry out her plan,
And bring back better conditions, for every laboring man.

Dump The Bosses
[ John Brill / Public Domain ]

Are you poor, forlorn, and hungry?
Are there lots of things you lack?
Is your life made up of misery?
Then dump the bosses off your back.
Are your clothes all patched and tattered?
Are you living in a shack?
Would you have your troubles scattered?
Then dump the bosses off your back.
Are you almost split asunder?
Loaded like a long-eared jack?
Boob – why don’t you buck like thunder,
And dump the bosses off your back?
All the agonies you suffer
You can end with one good whack,
Stiffen up you orn’ry duffer
And dump the bosses off your back.

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