(Tune: Song of the Vagabonds)

Come, ye Negro haters,
Red-and-Jewish baiters,
Fight, fight, fight for Capital!
Serve the upper classes,
Damn the stupid masses,
Fight, fight, fight for Capital!
Carry on for "free enterprise".
Grind down the worker 'til he'll 
  nevermore arise!
Crush the rights of Labor,
Wave the bloody saber,
Fight, fight, fight for Capital!

Men of every nation,
Smash this exploitation,
Down, down, down with Capital!
Submit ye not like cattle,
Join us in our battle,
Down, down, down with Capital!
Rally 'round, the struggle has begun
For "Peace, Plenty, Freedom" we will 
  fight until we've won!
Builders all we'll be, 
Till the world is free,
Down, down, down with Capital!

   (Tune: On Top of Old Smoky)

On top of the Waldorf,
The Waldorf so high,
There sat an old soldier
Who never will die.

He was a great general,
For many a day,
But now he's a soldier
Who won't fade away.

We thought he would never,
Depart Tokyo,
But then he wrote letters
To a fellow named Joe.

"We can't win this battle,
We're fighting too slow."
So Harry said, "Douglas,
It's time you must go."

He says that he's finished,
All office he'd spurn.
Does this new assertion
Mean "I shall return"?

Repeat 1st verse



My country 'tis of thee,
Land of mass misery,
Of thee I sing.
Land where the workers toil,
And bosses reap their spoil;
Where children starve and freeze,
From fall to spring.

My native country thee,
Our fathers fought to free
You from a king.
And In their steps we tread,
Fighting for meat and bread;
Workers lift up your head,
Let freedom ring.

My country is the world,
My flag with stars impearled,
Fills all the skies.
All the round earth I claim
Peoples of every name;
And all inspiring fame,
My heart would prize.

Mine are all lands and seas,
All flowers, shrubs and trees,
All life's design;
My heart within me thrills, for 
  all uplifted hills.
And for all streams and rills;
The world is mine.

And all men are my kin,
Since every man has been.
Blood of my blood;
I glory in the grace
And strength of every race
And joy in every trace
Of brotherhood.

  (Tune:  America the Beautiful)

God bless free enterprise, system
Stand beside her and guide her,
Just as long as the profits are mine.
Good old Wall Street, may she flourish
Corporations, may they grow;
God bless free enterprise, the status
God bless free enterprise, the status


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