Lyrics: M. Squirk.
Tune: “Beulah Land.”
The harvest time is here again;
John Farmer don’t need any men;
The work that once was in our line
Is now all done by combine.
Oh, harvest hands from every land,
For union might, we’ll take our stand;
We’ll show them we will not eat dirt
Or let them drive us off the earth;
We’ll organize and we will fight,
And happiness shall come forthright.