| We welcome to heaven Sacco and Vanzetti | 
| Two men that have won the highest of seats | 
| Come, let me show you the world that you’ve come through | 
| It’s a funny old world, an' I’m sure you’ll admit | 
| If you wear rags on earth, you’re a hobo | 
| If you wear satin, they call you a thief | 
| If you save money, they’ll call you a miser | 
| If you spend money, you live on relief | 
| If you work hard, of course, you are lowly | 
| And if you’re a loafer, of course, you’re no good | 
| If you stay sober, you’re known as a sissy | 
| An' if you drink liquor, it goes to your head | 
| If you are fat, they’ll call you a glutton | 
| If you stay skinny, they’ll call you a runt | 
| If you laugh, they’ll say you’re an idiot | 
| An' if you cry, they’ll ask you to stop | 
| If you chase women, they’ll call you a wolfer | 
| If you don’t chase them, they’ll call you no good -- an' afraid | 
| If you chase men, they’ll call you down-harden' (?) | 
| An' if you don’t chase them, they’ll call you an old maid | 
| If you eat your meat fried, they’ll tell you to boil it | 
| Then, if you boil it, they’ll say it should broil | 
| An' if you don’t eat meat, and eat only green things | 
| They’ll ask you what’s wrong with the brain in your skull | 
| Well, if you work for wages, you support the rich capitalist | 
| And if you don’t work, you’re a lumpen to them | 
| And if you play the gamble, of course, you’re a gambler | 
| An' if you don’t gamble, you never do win | 
| If you stay poor, nobody comes courting | 
| If you get rich, well, you can’t find a mate | 
| If you get married, you’re wrecking your happiness | 
| And if you stay single, you walk to your grave | 
| If you die in your cradle, it’s a sad misfortune | 
| If you live to old age, well, it’s harder and worse | 
| If you read the papers, you know it is many | 
| That take their lives daily when they empty their purse | 
| There’s traders, and trappers, and shippers, and hopers | 
| Sacco and Vanzetti, in America’s fair lands | 
| There’s hoppers, and croppers, and robbers, an' dopers | 
| And millions of folks with just two empty hands | 
| You come the straight road, Sacco and Vanzetti | 
| You fought with the lord on his most private grounds | 
| He hired his courts and his babblers against you | 
| But I’m here to say you went up and not down |