I've traveled round this country
From shore to shining shore.
It really made me wonder
The things I heard and saw.
I saw the weary farmer,
Plowing sod and loam;
I heard the auction hammer
A knocking down his home.
But the banks are made of marble,
With a guard at every door,
And the vaults are stuffed with silver,
That the farmer sweated for.
I saw the seaman standing
Idly by the shore.
I heard the bosses saying,
Got no work for you no more.
But the banks are made of marble,
With a guard at every door,
And the vaults are stuffed with silver,
That the seaman sweated for.
I saw the weary miner,
Scrubbing coal dust from his back,
I heard his children cryin',
Got no coal to heat the shack.
But the banks are made of marble,
With a guard at every door,
And the vaults are stuffed with silver,
That the miner sweated for.
I've seen my brothers working
Throughout this mighty land;
I prayed we'd get together,
And together make a stand.
Then we'd own those banks of marble,
With a guard at every door;
And we'd share those vaults of silver,
That we have sweated for.
From shore to shining shore.
It really made me wonder
The things I heard and saw.
I saw the weary farmer,
Plowing sod and loam;
I heard the auction hammer
A knocking down his home.
But the banks are made of marble,
With a guard at every door,
And the vaults are stuffed with silver,
That the farmer sweated for.
I saw the seaman standing
Idly by the shore.
I heard the bosses saying,
Got no work for you no more.
But the banks are made of marble,
With a guard at every door,
And the vaults are stuffed with silver,
That the seaman sweated for.
I saw the weary miner,
Scrubbing coal dust from his back,
I heard his children cryin',
Got no coal to heat the shack.
But the banks are made of marble,
With a guard at every door,
And the vaults are stuffed with silver,
That the miner sweated for.
I've seen my brothers working
Throughout this mighty land;
I prayed we'd get together,
And together make a stand.
Then we'd own those banks of marble,
With a guard at every door;
And we'd share those vaults of silver,
That we have sweated for.
inviata da Bernart - 29/11/2013 - 13:49
Lingua: Inglese
Bob Whiskens' version
THE BANKS ARE MADE OF MARBLE
I've travelled round this country
From shore to shining shore
And it really made me wonder
About the things that I heard and saw
I saw a homeless woman
Outside the local store
And it really made me angry
Tory austerity was the cause
But the banks they are made of marble
With a guard at every door
And the vaults they are stuffed with silver
That the people grafted for
And I see young struggling families
Standing in the food bank queues
Remember brothers and sisters
Tomorrow it might be me or you
But the banks they are made of marble
With a guard at every door
And the vaults they are stuffed with silver
That the people grafted for
Well I saw our frontline workers
Nurses and doctors and those in care
Risking their lives without resources
No protective kit for them to wear
But the banks they are made of marble
With a guard at every door
And the vaults they are stuffed with silver
That the people grafted for
So I've seen hard-working people
Throughout this mighty land
There's the few, then there's the many
Rise up the many and make a stand
But the banks they are made of marble
With a guard at every door
And the vaults they are stuffed with silver
That the people grafted for
I've travelled round this country
From shore to shining shore
And it really made me wonder
About the things that I heard and saw
I saw a homeless woman
Outside the local store
And it really made me angry
Tory austerity was the cause
But the banks they are made of marble
With a guard at every door
And the vaults they are stuffed with silver
That the people grafted for
And I see young struggling families
Standing in the food bank queues
Remember brothers and sisters
Tomorrow it might be me or you
But the banks they are made of marble
With a guard at every door
And the vaults they are stuffed with silver
That the people grafted for
Well I saw our frontline workers
Nurses and doctors and those in care
Risking their lives without resources
No protective kit for them to wear
But the banks they are made of marble
With a guard at every door
And the vaults they are stuffed with silver
That the people grafted for
So I've seen hard-working people
Throughout this mighty land
There's the few, then there's the many
Rise up the many and make a stand
But the banks they are made of marble
With a guard at every door
And the vaults they are stuffed with silver
That the people grafted for
inviata da giorgio - 30/8/2020 - 17:27
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Parole e musica di tal Les Rice, un contadino di Newburgh, Stato di New York.
Nel disco “Gazette With Pete Seeger, Vol. 1”, Folkways Records, 1958.
Una canzone sulla grave crisi che gli USA attraversarono nel secondo dopoguerra, con centinaia di migliaia disoccupati. La guerra aveva tirato l’economia, gli industriali e le banche avevano fatto soldi a palate e poi avevano mandato un sacco di lavoratori a spasso. A questi si aggiungevano i reduci dai fronti di guerra, spesso pure mutilati o traumatizzati, destinati anche loro ad una vita di stenti… Ma “le banche sono fatte di marmo e protette da guardie armate ad ogni porta, e i soffitti sono rivestiti dell’argento che i lavoratori hanno sudato…”