![T-Bone Slim [Matti Valentin Huhta]](img/art/t1547379.jpg?1578767869 "T-Bone Slim [Matti Valentin Huhta]")
I pray dear Lord for Jesus' sake,
Give us this day a T-Bone Steak,
Hallowed be thy Holy name,
But don’t forget to send the same.
Oh, hear my humble cry, Oh Lord,
And send us down some decent board,
Brown gravy and some German fried,
With sliced tomatoes on the side.
Observe me on my bended legs,
I’m asking you for Ham and Eggs,
And if thou havest custard pies,
I like, dear Lord, the largest size.
Oh, hear my cry, All Mighty Host,
I quite forgot the Quail on Toast,
Let your kindly heart be stirred,
And stuff some oysters in that bird.
Dear Lord, we know your Holy wish,
On Friday we must have a fish,
Our flesh is weak and spirit stale,
You better make that fish a whale.
Oh, hear me Lord, remove these “Dogs,”
These sausages of powder’d logs,
Your bull beef hash and bearded Snouts.
Take them to hell or thereabouts.
With Alum bread and Pressed-Beef butts,
Dear Lord you damn near ruin’d my guts,
Your white-wash milk and Oleorine,
I wish to Christ I’d never seen.
Oh, hear me Lord, I am praying still,
But if you won’t, our union will,
Put pork chops on the bill of fare,
And starve no workers anywhere.
Give us this day a T-Bone Steak,
Hallowed be thy Holy name,
But don’t forget to send the same.
Oh, hear my humble cry, Oh Lord,
And send us down some decent board,
Brown gravy and some German fried,
With sliced tomatoes on the side.
Observe me on my bended legs,
I’m asking you for Ham and Eggs,
And if thou havest custard pies,
I like, dear Lord, the largest size.
Oh, hear my cry, All Mighty Host,
I quite forgot the Quail on Toast,
Let your kindly heart be stirred,
And stuff some oysters in that bird.
Dear Lord, we know your Holy wish,
On Friday we must have a fish,
Our flesh is weak and spirit stale,
You better make that fish a whale.
Oh, hear me Lord, remove these “Dogs,”
These sausages of powder’d logs,
Your bull beef hash and bearded Snouts.
Take them to hell or thereabouts.
With Alum bread and Pressed-Beef butts,
Dear Lord you damn near ruin’d my guts,
Your white-wash milk and Oleorine,
I wish to Christ I’d never seen.
Oh, hear me Lord, I am praying still,
But if you won’t, our union will,
Put pork chops on the bill of fare,
And starve no workers anywhere.
Contributed by Bernart Bartleby - 2020/1/11 - 19:20
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Scritta da Matti Valentin Huhta, aka T-Bone Slim (1880–1942), poeta, cantautore, vagabondo e agitatore sociale statunitense, di origine finlandese.
Sulla melodia dell'inno religioso "Praise God From Whom All Blessings Flow"
interpretata da Utah Phillips
Una canzone che circolava su foglio volante al prezzo di 10 cents. Il denaro raccolto serviva per finanziare le pubblicazioni gratuite dei Wobblies (IWW)
Testo trovato direttamente sul sito dell'Industrial Workers of the World
Quindi il nickname di Matti Valentin Huhta era più o meno "Bistecca con l'osso magra". "Slim" era appellativo comune degli hobo. Nelle pubblicazioni dell'IWW, Gesù Cristo veniva indicato come "Jerusalem Slim".
La preghiera del boscaiolo – di poter almeno mangiare bene e non le schifezze che i padroni propinavano per un lavoro durissimo e pericoloso che poteva durare anche 12 ore ogni giorno – si concludeva con un riscontro in prosa scritto dallo stesso autore:
He tells me he has no knowledge on Dogs, Pressed-Beef Butts, etc., and that they probably are products of the Devil. He further informs me the Capitalists are children of Hisn—and that He absolutely refuses to participate in any children’s squabbles. He believes in letting us fight it out along the lines of Industrial Unionism.
Yours in faith,
T-BONE SLIM.