In a letter to every President
Congressman, career politician
Scrawled in spite across the envelope
With all of our conviction
In only took a few hours for his peers
To find him guilty in a trail too fair
A Wobblie, immigrant worker has no place among the living
“My body if I could choose to ashes it reduce”
Murdered by the capitalist
1915 be careful of what you wish
Who is wrong and who is righteous?
What was stolen from us we will replace
Off with the head on the body we feast
Who is wrong and who is righteous, will never be our own decision
He yelled fire to the squad with guns
They stopped his heart from beating
Every word he wrote, he spoke, he sung
We are still singing
“My body if I could choose to ashes it reduce
And let the breezes blow my dust to where some flowers grow
Perhaps some fading flower then would come to life and bloom again”
If the workers take a notion
They can stop all speeding trains
Every ship upon the ocean
They can tie with mighty chains
Every wheel in the creation
Every mine and every mill
Fleets and armies of all nations
Will at our command stand still
Congressman, career politician
Scrawled in spite across the envelope
With all of our conviction
To find him guilty in a trail too fair
A Wobblie, immigrant worker has no place among the living
1915 be careful of what you wish
Who is wrong and who is righteous?
What was stolen from us we will replace
Off with the head on the body we feast
Who is wrong and who is righteous, will never be our own decision
They stopped his heart from beating
Every word he wrote, he spoke, he sung
We are still singing
And let the breezes blow my dust to where some flowers grow
Perhaps some fading flower then would come to life and bloom again”
They can stop all speeding trains
Every ship upon the ocean
They can tie with mighty chains
Every wheel in the creation
Every mine and every mill
Fleets and armies of all nations
Will at our command stand still
Add your song meanings, interpretations, facts, memories & more to the community.
This song is about Joe Hill, how his fight for worker's rights brought him to a fake (or at least very questionable) trial and a death sentence. It quotes his last will:
"My will is easy to decide, For there is nothing to divide. My kin don't need to fuss and moan, "Moss does not cling to a rolling stone."
My body? Oh, if I could choose I would to ashes it reduce, And let the merry breezes blow, My dust to where some flowers grow.
Perhaps some fading flower then Would come to life and bloom again. This is my Last and final Will. Good Luck to All of you, Joe Hill"