Waiting for a trial,
One mile away from the union hall
Sleeping in the jail.
I walked up to the policeman
To show him I didn't have any fear,
He said if you've got money
I'll see that you don't stay here.
I haven't got a nickel,
Not a penny can I show.
Lock her back up in the call, he said,
As he slammed the jailhouse door.
He let me out in July
The month I dearly love,
The wide open spaces all around me,
The moon and the stars up above.
Everybody seems to want me,
Everyone but the scabs.
I'm on my way from the jail house
I'm going back to the Union Hall.
Tough my tent now is empty,
My heart is full of joy,
I'm a mile away from the Union Hall,
Just a'waiting for a strike.
Contributed by The Lone Ranger - 2010/5/20 - 11:44
Wayne Absher & Charlene - 2011/9/23 - 23:11
B.B. - 2015/4/22 - 21:35
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