| The year is nineteen and twenty, kind friends | 
| And the great World’s War we have won | 
| Old Kaiser Bill, we’ve beat him once again | 
| In the smoke of the cannon and the gun | 
| Old von Hindenburg and his Royal German Army | 
| They are tramps in tatters and in rags | 
| Uncle Sammy has tied every nation in this world | 
| In his long old leather money bags | 
| Wilson caught a trip and a train into Paris | 
| Meetin' Lloyd George and Mr. Clemenceau | 
| They said to Mr. Wilson, «We've staked all of our claims | 
| There is nothing else for you.» | 
| «I plowed more lands, I built bigger fact’ries | 
| An' I stopped Hindenburg in his tracks | 
| You thank the Yanks by claimin' all the lands | 
| But you still owe your money to my bank.» | 
| «Keep sending your ships across these waters; | 
| We’ll borrow all the money you can lend | 
| We must buy new clothes, new plows, and fact’ries | 
| And we need golden dollars for to spend.» | 
| Ever' dollar in the world, well, it rolled and it rolled | 
| And it rolled into Uncle Sammy’s door | 
| A few got richer, and richer, and richer | 
| But the poor folks kept but gettin' poor | 
| Well, the workers in the world did fight a revolution | 
| To chase out the gamblers from their land | 
| Farmers, an' peasants, an' workers in the city | 
| Fought together on their five-year plans | 
| The soul and the spirit of the workers' revolution | 
| Spread across ever' nation in this world; | 
| From Italy to China, to Europe and to India | 
| An' the blood of the workers it did spill | 
| This spirit split the wind to Boston, Massachussetts | 
| With Coolidge on the Governor’s chair | 
| Troopers an' soldiers, the guards and the spies | 
| Fought the workers that brought the spirit there | 
| Sacco and Vanzetti had preached to the workers | 
| They was carried up to Old Judge Thayer | 
| They was charged with killin' the payroll guards | 
| And they died in the Charlestown chair | 
| Well, the world shook harder on the night they died | 
| Than 'twas shaken by that great World War | 
| More millions did march for Sacco and Vanzetti | 
| Than did march for the great war lords | 
| Well, the peasants, the farmers, the towns and the cities | 
| An' the hills and the valleys they did ring | 
| Hindenburg an' Wilson, an' Harding, Hoover, Coolidge | 
| Never heard this many voices sing | 
| The zigzag lightning, the rumbles of the thunder | 
| And the singing of the clouds blowing by | 
| The flood and the storm for Sacco and Vanzetti | 
| Caused the rich man to pull his hair and cry |