Some day ye will gaze at th' ruins
An' wreck of th' body ye made;
And ye'll see in th' dust th' work of your lust;
Ye'll wonder what's come o' your trade;
An' ye'll wonder what's happened th' union,
It's lying so feeble an' still;
An' ye'll know right away that it died on th' day
Ye started to murder an' kill. Some day ye'll look back in remembrance,
An' think o' th' start that ye had;
Some day ye'll regret, when ye're reeking with
sweat,
That your end was so sudden an' sad.
An' ye'll wonder what happened to kill ye,
An' wonder what laid ye out cool;
It'll come to ye then, how it slipped from ye when
Ye broke every law with mob rule. An' ye'll think how ye gave up your foothold,
An' turned all your friends that were true;
Ye'll think o' the time ye were in your prime.
An' th' union flourished an' grew.
If ye wonder what happened t' kill ye,
An' wonder what laid ye out low,
'Twill be easy t' tell, ye struck your death knell
When a riot was all ye could show. If ye value th' union, brothers,
Go home to your children and wives;
Go settle your strikes without pistols and pikes,
Endangering poor devils' lives.
For ye're killing th' cause that ye're lovin';
Ye're riding a dangerous wave.
When ye smile at th' brute, an' permit him to
shoot,
It's th' cause that gets nearer th' grave.