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You working men of England one moment now attendWhile I unfold the treatment of the poor upon this landFor nowadays the factory lords are brought the labor lowAnd daily are contriving plans to prove our overthrow(Chorus)So arouse you sons of freedom the world seems upside downThey scorn the poor man as a thief in country and in townThere's different parts in Ireland, it's true what I do stateThere's hundreds that are starving for they can't get food to eatAnd if they go unto the rich to ask them for reliefThey 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 poorAnd pay them off without remorse quite scornful at their doorAnd if a man is out of work his Parrish pay his smallEnough to starve himself, and wife, his children, and all(Repeat chorus)So to conclude and finish these few verses I have madeI hope to see before it's long men for their labor paidThen we'll rejoice with heart and voice and banish all our woesBefore we do old England must pay us what she owes(Repeat chorus) Aus Songtexte Mania