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You gotta go down and join the union You got to join it by yourself Ain't nobody here can join it for you You gotta go down and join the union by yourself [Spoken:] Working in the factories would kill a dog Working on the belt line killed your soul Working in the limestone and cement quarries withered your lungs Working in the cotton mills shot your legs and feet all to hell And working in the steel mills burned up your spirit Like a gnat that lit in the melting pot But out of this whole mixing bowl of hell and high water The working folk have marched against Billy clubs, Against machine guns And they sang their way through the whole dirty mess Now, the bank men have got their union, and the Landlords got their union And the finance men got their union But down south and out west On the cotton farms and working in the orchards and fruit crops It's a jail house offense for a few, common everyday workers To form them a union and get together for higher wages Honest pay and fair treatment. You gotta go down and join the union You got to join it by yourself Ain't nobody here can join it for you You gotta go down and join the union by yourself From Letras Mania