Tramp, tramp, tramp, keep on a-tramping, Nothing doing here for you; If I catch you ’round again; You will wear the ball and chain, Keep on tramping, that’s the best thing you can do. He walked up and down the street, ’Till the shoes fell off his feet; In a house he spied a lady cooking stew, And he said, “How do you do, May I chop some wood for you?” What the lady told him made him feel so blue. ’Cross the street a sign he read, “Work for Jesus,” so it said, And he said, “Here is my chance, I’ll surely try,” And he kneeled upon the floor, Till his knees got rather sore, But at eating time he heard the preacher say: Down the street he met a cop, And the copper made him stop, And he asked him, “When did you blow into town?” “Come with me to the judge.” But the judge he said, “Oh fudge! Bums that have no money needn’t come around.” “The Preacher and the Slave,” also written by Joe Hill and sung to the tune of “Sweet Bye and Bye,” is especially popular among the malcontents because of its attack upon religion: Long haired preachers come out every night, Try to tell you what’s wrong and what’s right; But when asked how ’bout something to eat They will answer in voices so sweet: _Chorus_ You will eat bye and bye In that glorious land above the sky; Work and pray, live on hay, You’ll get pie in the sky when you die. And the starvation army, they play, And they sing and they clap and they pray, Till they get all your coin on the drum, Then they’ll tell you when you’re on the bum: Workingmen of all countries, unite, Side by side we for freedom will fight; When the world and its wealth we have gained To the grafters we’ll sing this refrain: _Last Chorus_ You will eat bye and bye When you’ve learned how to cook and to fry; Chop some wood, ’twill do you good, And you will eat in the sweet bye and bye. The “Portland County Jail” is one of the few songs of the road that does not wear out. I’m a stranger in your city, My name is Paddy Flynn; I got drunk the other evening, And the coppers run me in. I had no money to pay my fine, No friends to go my bail, So I got soaked for ninety days In the Portland County Jail. _Chorus_ Oh, such a lot of devils, The like I never saw; Robbers, thieves, and highwaymen, And breakers of the law. They sang a song the whole night long, And the curses fell like hail, I’ll bless the day they take me away From the Portland County Jail.