“It’s Up to You!”
Lyrics: Mary E. Marcy.
Tune: Unknown.
I do not heed the Preacher when he tells us to forbear,
And I don’t like wild effusions over “deals that should be square,”
But when I hear a Socialist bewail his sordid lot,
Berating all the Upper Dogs, I say it makes me hot.
For it’s up to you and me, Boys!
It’s up to us today.
You’ll never see the man on top
Abbreviate his stay.
So do a little work, Boys,
Annex our brothers, too,
And bear the thought in mind, that
It’s up to me and you!
There is no use in fuming o’er the capitalist’s lot;
He simply has the things today We Want and Haven’t Got:
He’s keen about his interests, and he takes the way to win,
And it’s folly yelling, “Robbers! Renegade!” or “Crime!” and “Sin!”
’Cause it’s simply up to you, Boys!
Old Rockefeller’s wise,
We’ll get his abdication
When we’re angels in the skies;
So pull yourselves together,
And whatever you think or do,
Remember this is our fight;
It’s up to me and you!
You can’t persuade the cat, Boys, to let the bird go free;
He doesn’t care a rap about what conduct “ought” to be;
He doesn’t care a rap while we go our Separate Ways;
While we are not united, it’s the millionaire who stays!
So give yourselves a hunch, Boys,
The Upper Ten are on;
They’ll be living in their luxury
When we are dead and gone,
If we do not get together,
Do not cease to wait and stew!
And recognize the fact-that
It’s up to me and you!
Just spend a little; get our fellow workmen to unite!
A word from Marx will show how proletarians can fight;
And put your shoulders to the wheel, for that’s the only way,
And push the fight until the Under Dog shall have his day!
For it’s up to me and you, Boys!
The Other Fellow’s wise,
He’s like a sleepy cat until
We start to organize;
And you cannot blame the cat, Boys,
For what you let him do;
So it’s simply up to us, Boys,
It’s up to me and you!