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L'Internationale

Eugène Pottier
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INGLESE [11 – La versione del Socialist Labor Party of America, 1...
THE AUSTRALIAN INTERNATIONALE

Stand up, ya victims of pomm bullshit,
The time for top blokes has arrived,
Quit wanking off on shitty wi fi,
It's time for workers all to thrive.
Let emu warlords know terror,
And let's go on walk about,
Drink Fosters, and form workers co-ops,
And let Bruce give us all a shout.

So get fired up the lads,
And do not dog the boys,
The Internationale
Will ring with sick cunt noise!
So down a couple pingas,
And get maggered off your face,
The Internationale
Unites the human race!
THE INTERNATIONAL

Stand up! Ye wretched ones who labor,
    Stand up! Ye galley-slaves of want.
Man’s reason thunders from its crater,
    ‘Tis th’ eruption naught can daunt.
Of the past let us cleanse the tables,
    Mass enslaved, fling back the call,
Old Earth is changing her foundations,
    We have been nothing, now be all.

‘Tis the last call [1] to battle!
Close the ranks, each in place, [2]
The staunch old International 
Shall be the Human race.
‘Tis the last call to battle!
Close the ranks, each in place,
The staunch old International 
Shall be the Human race.

There are no saviors e’er will help us,
Nor God, nor Caesar, nor Tribune,
’tis ours, O workers, must the blows be
    That shall win the common boon.
From the thief to wring his stolen booty,
    From the its prison to free the soul.
’tis we ourselves must ply the bellows,
    ‘Tis we must beat the anvil’s roll.

‘Tis the last call to battle!
Close the ranks, each in place,
The staunch old International 
Shall be the Human race.
‘Tis the last call to battle!
Close the ranks, each in place,
The staunch old International 
Shall be the Human race.

The state is false, the law mockery,
    And exploitation bows us down;
The rich man flaunts without a duty,
    And the poor man’s rights are none.
Long enough have we in swaddling languished,
    Lo, Equality’s new law
“Away with rights that know no duties,
    Away with duties shorn of rights.”

‘Tis the last call to battle!
Close the ranks, each in place,
The staunch old International 
Shall be the Human race.
‘Tis the last call to battle!
Close the ranks, each in place,
The staunch old International 
Shall be the Human race.

All hideous in their brutal lordship
    Stand king of mill and mine and rail.
When have they e'er performed a service,
    Or at work done aught but quail?
In the coffers of these robber barons,
    Blind the world’s great wealth is thrown,
In summ'ning them to restitution,
    The people seeks but what’s its own.

‘Tis the last call to battle!
Close the ranks, each in place,
The staunch old International 
Shall be the Human race.
‘Tis the last call to battle!
Close the ranks, each in place,
The staunch old International 
Shall be the Human race.

Toilers from shop and field united,
    The Party we of all who work;
The earth belongs to those who labor,
    Hence! the idler and the shirk!
Say, how many on our flesh have feasted?
    But if all this vampire flight
Should vanish from the sky some morning,
The sun will still shine on us as bright!

‘Tis the last call to battle!
Close the ranks, each in place,
The staunch old International 
Shall be the Human race.
‘Tis the last call to battle!
Close the ranks, each in place,
The staunch old International 
Shall be the Human race.
[1] Alt. Cause.

[2] Alt. First 2 verses:
Tis the class-strife’s triumphant, 
last and mighty tug-of-war!


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