No More Deaths for Dollars

Ed Pickford

Originale

New version (by Jack Warshaw?)

NO MORE DEATHS FOR DOLLARS Mother Jones – her spirit roams Wherever mining kills Colorado, Cripple Creek, West Virginia Hills Dressed in black she walks the path Where grapes of wrath have grown Born & bred in County Cork Yet every-where’s her home No more deaths for dollars Price too high for coal Mother Jones still hollers Way down in the hole Mother Jones where do you go? Well I go where I choose. Mother Jones where do you live? I live in my shoes. Raised some hell where my feet fell Faced thugs and iron rain Mother Sorrow took my kids The miners eased my pain. No more deaths for dollars Price too high for coal Mother Jones still hollers Way down in the hole. Mother Jones who are these kids who march along with you? These are children Roosevelt keeps caged in a zoo. Silk mill slaves whose early graves Get closer every day They give their tomorrow now for what you have today. No more deaths for dollars Price too high for coal Mother Jones still hollers Way down in the hole. Miners’ angel Mother Jones No angel of the skies She stood on a mountaintop Helped them organise When the strike was on she’d lead The women and she’d say, “Beat the tin cans louder girls Those mules won’t scab today!” No more deaths for dollars Price too high for coal Mother Jones still hollers Way down in the hole. Mother Jones – her spirit roams Like Johnny Appleseed She takes root and she bears fruit Where there is a need Knights of Labor - days of hope Never tires of giving Prays for dead cut down by lead And fights like hell for living No more deaths for dollars Price too high for coal Mother Jones still hollers Way down in the hole. Figures lie and liars figure The maker rarely owns We need light and we need fight And we need Mother Jones.

MOTHER JONES Mother Jones – her spirit roams through every mine and mill Colorado, Cripple Creek, the West Virginia Hills Dressed in black she walks the path Where grapes of wrath have grown Born and bred in County Cork, yet everywhere’s her home No more deaths for dollars Miners lives for coal Mother Jones still hollers Way down in the hole. Mother Jones where do you go? Well, I go where I choose. Mother Jones where do you live? I live in my shoes. Raised some hell where my feet fell, faced all the thugs that came Fever took my kids away The miners eased my pain. No more deaths for dollars Miners lives for coal Mother Jones still hollers Way down in the hole. Mother Jones, who are these kids who march along with you? They are the ones the state locks up like creatures in a zoo, Silk mill slaves, their lonely graves get closer every day They give their tomorrow for what you have today. No more deaths for dollars Miners lives for coal, Mother Jones still hollers Way down in the hole. Miners’ angel, here on Earth, no angel in the skies Stood upon a mountaintop and helped them organise When the strike was on she’d lead the women and she’d say, “Beat those old cans louder girls and blow them scabs away” No more deaths for dollars Miners lives for coal Mother Jones still hollers Way down in the hole Union leaders, don’t forget how coal black rivers run When you meet the bosses just know which side you’re on Honey words poured in the ear turn bitter on the tongue Remember them who pays your dues and ends up with black lung No more deaths for dollars Miners lives for coal Mother Jones still hollers Way down in the hole Mother Jones – your spirit roams like Johnny Appleseed Taking root and bearing fruit wherever there's a need Knights of Labor - days of hope, never failed to give, Glory to our comrades who dig so we might live So here’s to union miners, who make but never own Sing out for your freedom and fight like Mother Jones No more deaths for dollars Miners lives for coal Mother Jones still hollers Way down in the hole.