The Sting
My mighty pen
On paper is wrought
To free the world
To banish kings and queens
That pride on wealth and power
My mighty spear
on flesh and bones
of brutal monarchs
that smile on poverty and death
and shed no tear for those in chains.
My life, O World!
Who will not render
In service and endurance
To right the wrong committed
Upon a race innocent and poor!
They flout the law
They share the fruits
And enslave the free
That labour and labour and labour
And still the yoke of ruin do carry.
Oh, Workers! Why the Devil enthrall!
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