Song Of The Times Lyrics

Song Of The Times lyrics

You working men of England one moment now attend

While I unfold the
treatment of the poor upon this land

For nowadays the factory lords are
brought the labor low

And daily are contriving plans to prove our
overthrow

(Chorus)

So arouse you sons of freedom the world seems
upside down

They scorn the poor man as a thief in country and in town

There's different parts in Ireland, it's true what I do state

There's
hundreds that are starving for they can't get food to eat

And if they go
unto the rich to ask them for relief

They bang their door all in their
face as if they were a thief

(Repeat chorus)

Alas how altered are
the times, rich men despise the poor

And pay them off without remorse
quite scornful at their door

And if a man is out of work his Parrish pay
his small

Enough to starve himself, and wife, his children, and all

(Repeat chorus)

So to conclude and finish these few verses I have
made

I hope to see before it's long men for their labor paid

Then
we'll rejoice with heart and voice and banish all our woes

Before we do
old England must pay us what she owes

(Repeat chorus)