Something for the Pain

To the corporation I'll be true.
What other is there to be faithful to?
'Cause it pays me once a week
All the riches I could seek.
Yes, there's just enough to buy the Friday brew!

So we go out every week to celebrate
That we've made it to another payroll date.
And its there for all to see,
Working in the factory
Is the reason that we all inebriate!

But there is another lifestyle we could choose,
And I'm hopin' that you'll help me spread the news.
So just try this on for size,
See, we've gotta organize--
And then we're gonna drive the boss to booze.

--rm

Heart of the Beast

Hey, have you seen the new machine
They're puttin' on the line?
They say it killed a hundred jobs;
I heard it just took mine, friend.
I heard it just took mine.

(Chorus)
My parents bought a little house,
They bought a little car.
And lately I've been wondering
If I can get that far, friend.
If I can get that far.

The bosses say we're all a team.
We've heard it all before.
We find out what their teamwork means
When we're goin' out the door, friend.
When we're goin' out the door.

The corporation is a beast
Without a trace of heart.
The only ethics it might know
Come from the profit chart, friend.
Come from the profit chart.

(Repeat chorus)

--rm

Old Man Nasty

(to the tune "Richard Corey"
by Simon and Garfunkel)

They say that old man Nasty
Makes about five hundred thou,
And he judges all his workers
By the sweat upon their brow.
And if you're in his employ
You had best not make a slip
'Cause he hires supervisors
By the way they crack the whip!

(chorus)
And I-- I work in his factory.
And I curse the life I'm livin'
And I curse my poverty.
And I wish that I could be
(Oh I wish that I could be,
Oh I wish that I could be)
Rich like Nasty!

If you're driving through the city
There's a factory on the hill.
And it looks just like a prison.
Its a sweatshop labor mill,
And they call it Nasty Manor
For its namesake-- sakes alive!
There's a Nasty cemetery,
Nasty Circle, Nasty Drive!

(sing chorus)

It was in the Nasty pool hall
Over cool ones with the guys
That we finally decided
We have gotta organize.
See, we're gonna call a meetin',
No more frettin' in a stew.
'Cause we're gonna have a union
And then we'll get nasty too!

(sing chorus)

--rm

IWW Poetry

A Few Short Poems