We have fed you all for a thousand years And you hail us still unfed Though there's never a dollar of all your wealth But marks the workers' dead. We have yielded our best to give you rest And you lie on crimson wool. Then if blood be the price of all your wealth, Good God, we have paid in full! There is never a mine blown skyward now But we're buried alive for you. And there's never a wreck drifts shoreward now But we are its ghastly crew. Go and reckon our dead by the forges red And the factories where we spin. If blood be the price of your cursed Wealth Good God, we have paid it in! We have fed you all for a thousand years For that was our doom, you know From the days when you chained us in your fields To the strike of a week ago. You have taken our lives, and our husbands and wives And called it your your legal share Then if blood be the price of your lawful wealth Good God, we have bought it fair!