The boss came around at Christmas--
Oh smiling like a lamb--
He made me a present of a pair of gloves
And then cut off my hands--
Oh and then cut off my hands.
The boss came around on my birthday
With some shoes of a rich man's brand.
He smiled like a priest as he cut off my feet
Then he said: "Go out and dance--
Oh he said: "Go out and dance."
The boss came around on May Day.
He said: "You may parade."
Then his cops shot us down in the open street
And they clubbed us into jail.
Oh they clubbed us into jail.
The preacher says on Sunday:
"Turn ye the other cheek."
Don't turn it to the boss on Monday morn:
He may knock out your teeth.
So listen to me workers:
When the boss seems kind and good
Remember the stain on the cutting tool
Is nothing but your blood--
Oh it's nothing but your blood.
If you love your wife and daughters,
And if you love your sons,
And if you love the working class
Then keep your love at home.
Don't waste it on the cockroach boss
But keep your love at home.
Everything changes, the wheel
of the law turns without pause.
After the rain, good weather.
In the wink of an eye
The universe throws off
its muddy clothes.
For ten thousand miles
the landscape
Spreads out like a beautiful brocade.
Gentle sunshine.
Light breezes. Smiling flowers,
Hang in the trees, amongst the sparkling leaves,
All the birds sing at once.
Men and animals rise up reborn.
What could be more natural?
After sorrow comes happiness.
