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Thomas Phillips Thompson

"The Factory Slave" (karaoke)

"The Factory Slave" (sheet music)


Toiling amid the smoke and clamor,

From morn till night,

Deafened by noise of wheel and hammer,

Far from the glad sunlight,

Piling up stores of wealth for others,

While we grow poor,

Tell me, O, suff'ring, toiling brothers,

How long shall this endure?

 

All my life is full of sorrow;

Welcome seems the grave.

Oh, when will freedom's bright tomorrow

Dawn on the fact'ry slave?

 

Often in search of work we wander;

Hungry we pine,

While wealth we earn our masters squander,

Feasting in palace fine.

Hard to behold the pallid faces

Of wife and child

Stifled in foul and loathsome places:

Thoughts fit to drive me wild.

 

All my life is full of sorrow;

Welcome seems the grave.

Oh, when will freedom's bright tomorrow

Dawn on the fact'ry slave?

 

Hard is the lot of honest labor,

Crushed and oppressed,

Where each is taught to rob his neighbor,

Greed steeling every breast.

Each has to freedom, air, and earth right

Such Heaven gave;

Rich men have robbed us of our birthright:

Landless, a man's a slave.

 

All my life is full of sorrow;

Welcome seems the grave.

Oh, when will freedom's bright tomorrow

Dawn on the fact'ry slave?


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