Rob Getzschman - The Ballad of Joe Hill

There goes Joe Hill with his guitar in his hand
Just singin' Union men to the promised land
Singin' Union men to the promised land

Local Utah, 1913
That Utah Copper Company sure is mean
"Now by the whites of my eyes
"You Union men need to organize"

Joe Hill was away five miles or more
When two men robbed a Salt Lake grocery store
They shot a man and they screamed
And they fled the place, never to be seen

Old Joe Hill was thrown in prison to sit
Arrested for a crime that he did not commit
Arrested for a crime that he did not commit

Well fly, you ravens fly
Fly from around my door
We don't got no scraps for you
Don't come 'round here no more
Well the judge, he hates the Union it's true
And the governor, of course, he hates the Union too
And they stifled that Union's breath
When they sentenced old Joe Hill to death

The president called, but they would not budge
And Joe was sentenced to die on a Union grudge
Sentenced to die on a Union grudge

Well fly, you ravens fly
Fly from around my door
We don't got no scraps for you
Don't come 'round here no more
"When I die, Lord take my soul
"And deliver me from this murder row
"And let the merry breezes blow
"My dust to where some flowers grow"

Old Joe Hill didn't think it odd
When he was killed in front of a firing squad

Written by:
Rob Getzschman

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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