I'm tired of listening to sun-shine talk,
This pie-in-the-sky stuff,
This travesty on patient toil;
Let the Jesus-screamers,
The open-shop artists,
And their ilk.mw-parser-output .nowrap,.mw-parser-output .nowrap a:before,.mw-parser-output .nowrap .selflink:before{white-space:nowrap}. . . .
Hook their fat necks over a flying emery wheel
For. . . . eight. . . . long. . . . hours;
And to the beat and whir of machinery,
Chant this:
"I work to get money to buy food to get strong,
So I can work to get money to buy food and get strong.". . .
Then, maybe, they will understand
Why the church pews are empty,
And men die for unionism.