Scissor Bill is down on everybody
The Hottentots, the bushmen and the man in the moon.
Don't try to talk your union dope to Scissor Bill,
He says he never organized and never will.
He always will be satisfied until he's dead,
With coffee and doughnut and a lousy old bed.
And Bill, he says he gets rewarded thousand fold,
When he gets up to Heaven on the streets of gold.
But I don't care who knows it, and right here I'll tell,
If Scissor Bill is goin' to Heaven, I'll go to Hell.
Scissor Bill, he wouldn't join the union,
Scissor Bill, he says, "Not me, by Heck!"
Scissor Bill gets his reward in Heaven,
Oh! sure. He'll get it, but he'll get it in the neck.
ALL HELL CAN'T STOP US!
(Tune: "Hold the Fort")
(Written by Ralph H. Chaplin, in Leavenworth Penit.")
Now the final battle rages;
Tyrants quake with fear.
Rulers of the New Dark Ages
Know THEIR end is near.
CHORUS
Scorn to take the crumbs they drop us;
All is ours by right!
Onward, men! All Hell can't stop us!
Crush the Parasite!
With a world—wide revolution
Bring them to your feet!
They of crime and persecution—
They must work to eat!
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