Harvest War Song

Melody - "Tipperary"; from a 1912 songsheet; Seq. by Jill B

Pat Brennan

We are coming home, John Farmer,
We are coming back to stay.
For nigh on fifty years or more,
We've gathered up your hay.
We have slept out in your hayfields,
We have heard your morning shout;
We've heard you wondering
Where in hell's them pesky go-abouts?
It's a long way, now understand me;
It's a long way to town;
It's a long way across the prairie,
And to hell with Farmer John.
Up goes machine or wages,
And the hours must come down;
For we're out for a winter's stake this summer,
And we want no scabs around.
2. You've paid the going wages,
That's what kept us on the bum,
You say you've done your duty,
You chin-whiskered son of a gun.
We have sent your kids to college,
But still you must rave and shout,
And call us tramps and hoboes,
And pesky go-abouts.

3. But now the wintry breezes
Are a-shaking our poor frames,
And the long drawn days of hunger
Try to drive us boes insane.
It is driving us to action
We are organized today;
Us pesky tramps and hoboes
Are coming back to stay.


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