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Charles Ashleigh

"Everett, November Fifth" (karaoke)

"Everett, November Fifth" (sheet music)


Song on his lips, he came;
Song on his lips, he went.
This be the token we bear of him:
Soldier of Discontent!

Out of the dark they came; out of the night
Of poverty and injury and woe.
With flaming hope, their Vision thrilled to light:
Song on their lips, and every heart aglow.

They came that none should trample Labor's right
To speak, and voice her centuries of pain.
Bare hands against the masters' armored might!
A dream to match the tolls of sordid gain!

And then the decks went red; and the grey sea
Was written crimsonly with ebbing life.
The barricade spewed shots and mockery
And curses, and the drunken lust of strife.

Yet, the mad Chorus from the devil's host,
Yea, all the tumult of that butcher throngs,
Compound of bullets and booze and coward boast,
Could not outshriek one dying worker's song!

Song on his lips, he came;
Song on his lips, he went.

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