We Will Sing One Song by Joe Hill

“We Will Sing One Song,” published in 1913, is an example of Joe Hill’s practice of taking well-known songs of his time and giving them new political meanings. Based on the traditional “My Old Kentucky Home,” his version - like many of his songs - is critical of those who hold political, economic and religious power. The song is performed by Six Feet In the Pine outside an abandoned house, which stands near the spot where Hill was arrested in 1914. Lyrics: We will sing one song of the meek and humble slave The horn-handed son of the toil He’s toiling hard from the cradle to the grave But his master reaps the profits from his toil Then we’ll sing one song of the greedy master class They’re vagrants in broadcloth, indeed They live by robbing the ever-toiling mass Human blood they spill to satisfy their greed Organize! Oh, toilers, come organize your might Then we’ll sing one song Of the workers’ commonwealth Full of beauty, full of love and health We will sing one song of the politician sly He’s talking of changing the laws Election day all the drinks and smokes he’ll buy While he’s living from the sweat of your brow Then we’ll sing one song of the girl below the line She’s scorned and despised everywhere While in their mansions the “keepers“ wine and dine From the profits that immoral traffic bear Organize! Oh, toilers, come organize your might Then we’ll sing one song Of the workers’ commonwealth Full of beauty, full of love and health We will sing one song of the preacher, fat and sleek He tells you of homes in the sky He says, “Be generous, be lowly, and be meek If you don’t you’ll sure get roasted when you die” Then we’ll sing one song of the poor and ragged tramp He carries his home on his back Too old to work, he’s not wanted ‘round the camp So he wanders without aim along the track Organize! Oh, toilers, come organize your might Then we’ll sing one song Of the workers’ commonwealth Full of beauty, full of love and health We will sing one song of the children in the mills They’re taken from playgrounds and schools In tender years made to go the pace that kills In the sweatshops, ’mong the looms and the spools Then we’ll sing one song of the One Big Union Grand The hope of the toiler and slave It’s coming fast; it is sweeping sea and land To the terror of the grafter and the knave Organize! Oh, toilers, come organize your might Then we’ll sing one song Of the workers’ commonwealth Full of beauty, full of love and health