From timbered lands, North, East, South and West From distant golden grain belts, From endless miles of rail, These workers float to the city. Timber beasts, harvesters, gandy dancers-- Adventurers all. From every clime and zone, Each comes with hope of work or Else to blow his pile. BATTLE SONGS OF THE HOBOS There are many types of tramp songs but most conspicuous are the songs of protest. The I.W.W. have done much to stimulate song writing, mostly songs of the struggle between the masses and the classes. Most hobo songs are parodies on certain popular airs or on hymns. One can easily determine when certain songs were written if he knows when certain popular airs, to which they are fitted, were the rage. The tunes most used by the tramp song writers are those that are so well known that the song may be sung by any group of transients. When the songs are parodies on hymns there is usually a note of irony running through them. The following is called the hobo’s “Harvest War Song.” It was written by Pat Brennan and is sung to the tune of “Tipperary.” We are coming home, John Farmer; We are coming back to stay. For nigh on fifty years or more, we’ve gathered up your hay. We have slept out in your hayfields; we have heard your morning shout; We’ve heard you wondering where in hell’s them pesky go-abouts? _Chorus_ It’s a long way, now understand me; it’s a long way to town; It’s a long way across the prairies, and to hell with Farmer Brown. Here goes for better wages, and the hours must come down, For we’re out for a winter’s stake this summer, and we want no scabs around. You’ve paid the going wages, that’s what kept us on the bum, You say you’ve done your duty, you chin-whiskered son-of-a-gun. We have sent your kids to college, but still you rave and shout And call us tramps and hobos, and pesky go-abouts. But now the long wintry breezes are a-shaking our poor frames, And the long drawn days of hunger try to drive us bos insane, It is driving us to action; we are organized today; Us pesky tramps and hobos are coming back to stay. Joe Hill, whose real name was Joseph Hilstrom, holds the place of honor among the I.W.W.’s as a song writer. Before his death he was one of the most enthusiastic of the I.W.W. organizers. His execution in Utah in 1915 has not lessened his popularity among the “Wobblies.” Most of his songs are parodies. “The Tramp” is a parody on the old tune: “Tramp, Tramp, Tramp; the Boys Are Marching.” If you will shut your trap, I will tell you ’bout a chap, That was broke and up aginst it too for fair; He was not the kind to shirk, He was looking hard for work, But he heard the same old story everywhere. _Chorus_