We have fed you all for a thousand years.
We have fed you all, for a thousand years
And you hail us still unfed,
Though there’s never a dollar of all your wealth
But marks the worker’s dead.
We have yielded our best to give you rest
And you lie on crimson wool.
Then if blood be the price of all your wealth,
Good God! We have paid it in full.
There is never a mine blown skyward now
But we’re buried alive for you.
There’s never a wreak drifts shoreward now
But we are its ghastly crew.
Go reckon our dead by the forges red
And the factories where we spin
If blood be the price of your cursed wealth
Good God! We have paid it in.
We have fed you all for a thousand years
For that was our doom, you know,
From the days when you chained us in your fields
To the strike of a week ago
You have taken our lives, and our babies and wolves,
And we’re told its your legal share;
But if blood be the price of your lawful wealth
Good God! We have bought it fair.