Housmans Music Month

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Housmans
radical booksellers
since 1945

October 2007 is Music and Politics month at Housmans, with a themed event every Wednesday evening at 7 o'clock. We've thrown some quotes and lyrics at this page to give you the general drift of our intentions... So, at the end of your toil on Wednesdays during October, jump the fence at Maggie's Farm and head over to Housmans (bring your own favourite political songs, they may get a play).

Joe Hill

"On November 19, 1915, Joe Hill, age 33, was shot by a five-man firing squad in the prison yard of Utah State Penetentiary. Circumstantial evidence supported the allegation that he had shot and killed a Salt Lake City grocer.... His guilt is still a matter of dispute." - Joyce Kornbluth, Rebel Voices, University of Michigan Press, 1964.

"Tomorrow I expect to take a trip to planet Mars and, if so, will immediately commence to organize the Mars canal workers into the I.W.W. and we shall sing the good old songs so loud that the learned star-gazers will once and for all get positive proof that the planet Mars is really inhabited.... I have nothing to say for myself, only that I have always tried to make this earth a little bit better." - Joe Hill to editor Ben Williams, Solidarity, 1915.

"My will is easy to decide
For there is nothing to divide
My kin don't need to fuss and moan
'Moss doesn't cling to a rolling stone.'

"My body? - Oh! If I could choose,
I would to ashes it reduce
And let the merry breezes blow
My dust to where some flowers grow.

"Perhaps some fading flower then
Would come to life and bloom again
This is my last and final will.
Good luck to all of you."
- Joe Hill

The progression and continuity of a protest classic from Hayes/Robinson (Joe Hill), through Bob Dylan (I Dreamed I Saw St Augustine) to Billy Bragg (I Dreamed I Saw Phil Ochs Last Night):

Joe Hill

Words by Alfred Hayes, Music by Earl Robinson

I dreamed I saw Joe Hill last night,
Alive as you or me
Says I, "But Joe, you're ten years dead,"
"I never died," says he
"I never died," says he

"In Salt Lake, Joe, by God" says I,
Him standing by my bed,
"They framed you on a murder charge,"
Says Joe, "But I ain't dead,"
Says Joe, "But I ain't dead."

"The copper bosses killed you, Joe,
They shot you, Joe," says I.
"Takes more than guns to kill a man,"
Says Joe, "I didn't die,"
Says Joe, "I didn't die."

And standing there as big as life
And smiling with his eyes
Joe says, "What they forgot to kill
Went on to organize,
Went on to organize."

"Joe Hill ain't dead," he says to me,
"Joe Hill ain't never died.
Where working men are out on strike
Joe Hill is at their side,
Joe Hill is at their side."

"From San Diego up to Maine,
In every mine and mill,
Where workers strike and organize,"
Says he, "You'll find Joe Hill,"
Says he, "You'll find Joe Hill."

I dreamed I saw Joe Hill last night,
Alive as you or me
Says I, "But Joe, you're ten years dead,"
"I never died," says he
"I never died," says he

I Dreamed I Saw St. Augustine

Words by Bob Dylan

I dreamed I saw St. Augustine,
Alive as you or me,
Tearing through these quarters
In the utmost misery,
With a blanket underneath his arm
And a coat of solid gold,
Searching for the very souls
Whom already have been sold.

"Arise, arise," he cried so loud,
In a voice without restraint,
"Come out, ye gifted kings and queens
And hear my sad complaint.
No martyr is among ye now
Whom you can call your own,
So go on your way accordingly
But know you're not alone."

I dreamed I saw St. Augustine,
Alive with fiery breath,
And I dreamed I was amongst the ones
That put him out to death.
Oh, I awoke in anger,
So alone and terrified,
I put my fingers against the glass
And bowed my head and cried.

I Dreamed I Saw Phil Ochs Last Night

Words by Billy Bragg

I dreamed I saw Phil Ochs last night
alive as you or me
says I to Phil "you're ten years dead"
"I never died' says he
"I never died" says he

the music business killed you Phil
they ignored the things you said
and cast you out when fashions changed
says Phil "but I ain't dead"
says Phil "but I ain't dead"

the FBI harassed you Phil
they smeared you with their lies
says he "but they could never kill
what they could not compromise
I never compromised"

"though fashion's changed and critics sneered
the songs that i have sung
are just as true tonight as then
the struggle carries on
the struggle carries on"

with the song of freedom rings out loud
from valleys and from hills
where people stand up for their rights
Phil ochs is with us still
Phil ochs inspires us still.

Notes:

The tune is to the song "I Dreamed I Saw Joe Hill Last Night" and uncle bill covered Phil's Joe Hill on Don't Mourn, Organise!

This song can be found on the album The Internationale

Penny's Farm (followed by Bob Dylan's Hard Times in New York and Maggie's Farm).

Traditional / of disputed authorship

Come you ladies and you gentlemen
And listen to my song,
I'll sing it to you right, but you might think it's wrong,
May make you mad, but I mean no harm,
It's all about the renters on Penny's farm.

CHORUS:
It's hard times in the country,
Down on Penny's farm.

Now you move out on Penny's farm,
Plant a little crop of 'bacco and a little crop of corn,
He'll come around to plan and plot,
Till he gets himself a mortgage
On everything you got.

You go to the fields
And you work all day,
Till way after dark, but you get no pay,
Promise you meat or a little lard,
It's hard to be a renter on Penny's farm.

Now here's George Penny come into town,
With his wagon-load of peaches, not one of them sound,
He's got to have his money or somebody's check,
You pay him for a bushel,
And you don't get a peck.

Then George Penny's renters, they come into town,
With their hands in their pockets, and their heads hanging down,
Go in the store and the merchant will say:
"Your mortgage is due
And I'm looking for my pay."

Goes down in his pocket with a trembling hand --
"Can't pay you all but I'll pay you what I can."
Then to the telephone the merchant makes a call,
"They'll put you on the chain gang
If you don't pay it all."

Hard Times in New York Town

Words by Bob Dylan

Come you ladies and you gentlemen, a-listen to my song.
Sing it to you right, but you might think it's wrong.
Just a little glimpse of a story I'll tell
"Bout an East Coast city that you all know well.
It's hard times in the city,
Livin' down in New York town.

Old New York City is a friendly old town,
From Washington Heights to Harlem on down.
There's a-mighty many people all millin' all around,
They'll kick you when you're up and knock you when you're down.
It's hard times in the city,
Livin' down in New York town.

It's a mighty long ways from the Golden Gate
To Rockefeller Plaza n' the Empire State.
Mister Rockefeller sets up as high as a bird,
Old Mister Empire never says a word.
It's hard times from the country,
Livin' down in New York town.

Well, it's up in the mornin' tryin' to find a job of work.
Stand in one place till your feet begin to hurt.
If you got a lot o' money you can make yourself merry,
If you only got a nickel, it's the Staten Island Ferry.
And it's hard times in the city,
Livin' down in New York town.

Mister Hudson come a-sailin' down the stream
And old Mister Minuet paid for his dream.
Bought your city on a one-way track,
'F I had my way I'd sell it right back.
And it's hard times in the city,
Livin' down in New York town.

I'll take all the smog in Cal-i-for-ne-ay,
'N' every bit of dust in the Oklahoma plains,
'N' the dirt in the caves of the Rocky Mountain mines.
It's all much cleaner than the New York kind.
And it's hard times in the city,
Livin' down in New York town.

So all you newsy people, spread the news around,
You c'n listen to m' story, listen to m' song.
You c'n step on my name, you c'n try 'n' get me beat,
When I leave New York, I'll be standin' on my feet.
And it's hard times in the city,
Livin' down in New York town.

Maggie's Farm

Words by Bob Dylan

I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more.
No, I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more.
Well, I wake in the morning,
Fold my hands and pray for rain.
I got a head full of ideas
That are drivin' me insane.
It's a shame the way she makes me scrub the floor.
I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more.

I ain't gonna work for Maggie's brother no more.
No, I ain't gonna work for Maggie's brother no more.
Well, he hands you a nickel,
He hands you a dime,
He asks you with a grin
If you're havin' a good time,
Then he fines you every time you slam the door.
I ain't gonna work for Maggie's brother no more.

I ain't gonna work for Maggie's pa no more.
No, I ain't gonna work for Maggie's pa no more.
Well, he puts his cigar
Out in your face just for kicks.
His bedroom window
It is made out of bricks.
The National Guard stands around his door.
Ah, I ain't gonna work for Maggie's pa no more.

I ain't gonna work for Maggie's ma no more.
No, I ain't gonna work for Maggie's ma no more.
Well, she talks to all the servants
About man and God and law.
Everybody says
She's the brains behind pa.
She's sixty-eight, but she says she's twenty-four.
I ain't gonna work for Maggie's ma no more.

I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more.
No, I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more.
Well, I try my best
To be just like I am,
But everybody wants you
To be just like them.
They sing while you slave and I just get bored.
I ain't gonna work on Maggie's farm no more.