In the dream of your downy couches,
Throughthe shades of your pampered
  sleep,
Give ear, you can hear it coming,
The tide that is steady and deep.
Give ear for the sound is growing
From the desert and dungeon and den.
The tramp of the marching millions,
The march of the hungry men.

CHORUS: 
Give ear for the sound is growing
From the desert and dungeon and den;
The tramp of the marching millions,
The march of the hungry men.

It is coming another army
Your wit can not compute,
The men-at-arms self fashioned,
The men you made the brute.
From the farm and sweatshop gathered,
From factory, mine and mill,
With lyre and shears and augur,
Dribble and drift and drill.

They bear no sword nor rifle,
Yet their ladders are on your walls.
Though the hauberk is turned to a
  jumper,
The jambeaux to overalls.
They come from locomotive,
From cab and cobbler's bench;
They are armed with the pick and
  the jackplane,
The sledge and the axe and the wrench.

And some come empty handed,
With fingers gnarled and strong,
And some are dumb with sorrow,
And some come drunk with song.
But all you thought were buried
Are, stirring and lithe and quick
And they carry a brass-bound scepter
The brass composing-stick.

Through the depths of the Devil's
  darkness,
With the distant stars for light,
They are coming the while you
  slumber,
And they come with the might of right.
On the morrow, perhaps tomorrow -
You will waken and see, and then
You will hand the keys of the cities
To the ranks of the Hungry Men.

Brothers and sisters who've starved
  and bled
Harried and scattered over all the
  world,
Come gather together, our flag is
  unfurled,
The flag of wrath our blood has dyed
The banner of red. Come swear we'll
  bear it onward, living and dead!

CHORUS:
Heaven and earth will bear witness
  for us,
Stars hear our fervent chorus.
The pledge of blood and tears we
  share.
We swear, we swear, we swear.

We swear we will battle for freedom
  and right,
Assail the oppressor and trample his
  tools,
We swear we will conquer this darkness
  that rules,
And storm the gates of tyranny or
  fall in the fight.
Come swear we'll bear it onward,
  living and dead.

CHORUS:

We swear we'll not flinch in our holy
  crusade,
As long as oppression and hunger
  endure.
No more slave and master, no more
  rich and poor.
A fellowship of freemen in a world
  we've remade.
We swear we'll bear it onward, living
  and dead.
 

OVER ALL THE LANDS
  (Tune: Anvil Chorus, Il Trovatore)

Over the prairies and over the
  mountains and up from the cities
  that front the sea,
Out from the mills and the mines and
  the forest is rising the call that
  shall set men free.
Over all the lands it sounds and
  over all the waters.
Earth and the fruits of earth for all
  her sons and daughters.
No more each for each alone. But 
  undivided, with hearts decided,
We rise to claim our own.