Make Camp Songs | stef

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