The I. Double W.s (Douglas Robson)

“The I. Double W.s”

Lyrics: Douglas Robson.
Tune: Unknown.


Have you heard of the I. double W.?
All over the country it’s spread,
It has sons on the foam—and a million at home
And they carry the banner of red,
(The glorious banner of red.)
There’s a little red card in their pockets
And a button on each coat lapel,
And the Wobblies, you’ll find, they’re never behind
Where unorganized workers get hell.
(Poor beggars—they always get hell.)
Then here’s to the I. double W.
And here’s to the red blood that runs
And bums in each vein of the radical train
Of Labor’s rebellious sons.
(They’re always—Rebellious Sons.)

Join hands with the I. Double W.,
Creation they’re meaning to own,
And they’ll purchase the same with the sword or the flame,
For ’twas Labor that built it alone.
(Poor beggars—with blood and with bone.)
Hands off of the I. Double W!
Hands off, you detective and cop,
For the kings will come down and the capitalists frown
When the I. Double W. says stop!
(And they soon are going to say stop!)
Then, here’s to the union of Wobblies,
From the Pole to the Tropics it runs,
For there’s mile upon mile of the rank and the file
Who fear neither gallows or guns.
(Poor beggars, they face many guns.)

We heard of the I. Double W.
It’s safest to let it alone
For its delegates stand by the sea and the land
Wherever exploiters are known.
(’Tis there One Big Union is known.)
There’s a voice in the wings of the morning,
From the prisons and graves of the dead
And it speaks of the day when the masters shall pay
For the blood of our sacrificed dead.
(We always remember our dead.)
Then here’s to the I. double W.s.
At home or abroad on the sea,
Here’s all they desire, they’ll never retire
Until all the workers are free.
(Poor beggars, they mean to be free!)


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