There's blood on the banks of homestead
There's blood in the banks of Wall Street
Robert Owens gave birth to the 8 hour day
The boss wants it down in a grave

Poison the rivers, slaughter the cows
Build up the prisons, burn forests down
Food to the landfill, patent the seeds
They waste your labor, and your dignity

They want to use you up, and steal your soul
They want to use you up, and steal your soul

Work and struggle, and be grateful for it
Work and struggle, and death
Work and struggle, and be grateful for it
Work and struggle for less

Perpetuate violence, surveilled privacy
Serving evictions, deny basic need
Following orders, just do what you're told
They'll leave you with nothing, just a flag to fold

They rob the world blind, never pay for their crimes
They've got us trained like rats
So we organize on the boss' dime
We don't have to live like this
Like this, like this

They want to use you up, and steal your soul
They want to use you up, and steal your soul

Bleed you to death 'til there's nothing left
Bleed you to death 'til there's nothing left
They're gonna bleed you to death 'til there's nothing left
They'll bleed you to death

Work and struggle, and be grateful for it
Work and struggle, and death
Work and struggle, and be grateful for it
Work and struggle for less
Work and struggle for less