Joe Hill
Joe Hill come over from Sweden shores
Looking for some work to do
And the Statue of Liberty waved him by
As Joe come a sailing through, Joe Hill
As Joe come a sailing through.
Oh his clothes were coarse and his hopes were high
As he headed for the promised land
And it took a few weeks on the out-of-work streets
Before he began to understand
Before he began to understand
And Joe got hired by a bowery bar
sweeping up the saloon
As his rag would sail over the baroom rail
Sounded like he whistled on a tune
You could almost hear him whistling on a tune
And Joe rolled on from job to job
From the docks to the railroad line
And no matter how hungry the hand that wrote
In his letters he was always doing fine
In his letters he was always doing fine
Oh, the years went by like the sun goin' down
slowly turn the page
And when Joe looked back at the sweat upon his tracks
He had nothing to show but his age
He had nothing to show but his age
So he headed out for the California shore
There things were just as bad
So he joined the industrial workers of the world
'Cause, The union was the only friend he had
'Cause, The union was the only friend he had
Now the strikes were bloody and the strikes were black
as hard as they were long
In the dark of night Joe would stay awake and write
In the morning he would raise them with a song
In the morning he would raise them with a song
And he wrote hi
Joe Hill
Joe Hill veio das terras da Suécia
Procurando um trampo pra fazer
E a Estátua da Liberdade acenou pra ele
Enquanto Joe navegava por ali, Joe Hill
Enquanto Joe navegava por ali.
Oh, suas roupas eram grossas e suas esperanças altas
Enquanto ele ia em direção à terra prometida
E levou algumas semanas nas ruas de desemprego
Antes de ele começar a entender
Antes de ele começar a entender
E Joe foi contratado por um bar na Bowery
Limpando o salão
Enquanto seu pano voava sobre a barra
Parecia que ele assobiava uma melodia
Você quase podia ouvi-lo assobiando uma melodia
E Joe seguiu de emprego em emprego
Dos docks até a linha de trem
E não importava quão faminto estava a mão que escrevia
Em suas cartas, ele sempre estava bem
Em suas cartas, ele sempre estava bem
Oh, os anos passaram como o sol se pondo
Devagar virando a página
E quando Joe olhou pra trás, pro suor em suas trilhas
Ele não tinha nada pra mostrar além da sua idade
Ele não tinha nada pra mostrar além da sua idade
Então ele partiu em direção à costa da Califórnia
Lá as coisas estavam tão ruins quanto
Então ele se juntou aos trabalhadores industriais do mundo
Porque o sindicato era o único amigo que ele tinha
Porque o sindicato era o único amigo que ele tinha
Agora as greves eram sangrentas e as greves eram pesadas
Tão difíceis quanto longas
Na escuridão da noite, Joe ficava acordado e escrevia
De manhã, ele as levantava com uma canção
De manhã, ele as levantava com uma canção
E ele escreveu hi