Stef Allespach
SONGS
LAAG Make Camp
Pastures of Plenty by Woody Guthrie
It’s a mighty hard row that my poor hands have hoed
My poor feet have traveled a hot dusty road
Out of your Dust Bowl and Westward we rolled
Through deserts so hot and mountains so cold
I worked in your orchards of peaches and prunes
I slept on the ground in the light of the moon
On the edge of the city, you’ll see us and then
We come with the dust and we go with the wind
California, Arizona, I tended your crops
And North up to Oregon to gather your hops
Dug beets from your ground, cut the grapes from your vine
To set on your table that white sparkling wine
Green pastures of plenty from the dry desert ground
From the Grand Coulee Dam where the waters run down
Every state in the Union us migrants have been
We’ll work in this fight and we’ll fight till we win
It’s always we ramble, that river and I
All along your green valleys, I’ll work ‘til I die
The land I’ll defend with my life if it be
Cause these pastures of plenty must always be free.
I’ve wandered all over your green, growing land
Wherever your crops are, I’ll lend you my hand
On the edge of your cities, you’ll see us and then
We come with the dust and we go with the wind
Socialist Round
(Tune: Row, row, row your boat)
So --- So --- Socialism
That's the cause for me.
Fight, fight, fight, fight,
Till our victory.
Llano del Rio by Frank Black and the Catholics
(Dog in the Sand, 2000)
Llano-Llano (x3)
Going out to Llano
Llano del Rio
Try to find utopia
In the stucco grids and the tumbleweeds
You got to love that pearblossom
It'll kill you just like possum
Have you been to the rock foundations?
Where it's mostly known just for the speed
Llano-Llano (x3)
Going out to Llano
Going out to look for Aldous Huxley
There between the power lines
And the purple flowers of mescaline
If you really want to
You can practice esperanto
But in the land of p***to
The wind it tastes like gasoline
Llano-Llano (x3)
Going out to Llano
Llano del Rio [x4]
When the Revolution Comes Socialist Songbook
(Tune: Yankee Doodle)
Come, every honest lad and lass
Too long we've been kept under
By rusty chains of fraud and fear
We'll snap them all asunder!
CHORUS
When the revolution comes,
The social revolution,
It's coming fast,
Our turn at last,
The social revolution!
The knave who lives in idleness,
By plundering his neighbor,
Shall learn to use the pick and
spade,
And live by honest labor!
CHORUS
That robber's pact that's styled
the law
To frighten honest folks, sir,
We'll set ablaze and fumigate
The country with the smoke, sir.
CHORUS
The landlord and the capitalist,
If you should wish to see 'em
You'll have to take a holiday
And search in the museum.
CHORUS
Then let us hail the coming day.
The glorious hope before us.
And with brave deeds anticipate
The good time of our chorus.
CHORUS