Old hat hanging upon the wall
walked streets of blood and bold
men of little fought men with gold
put them to the ground
when they proved freedom rang
now here we are back again
those poor poor rich men asking for pity
Old hat shading the sun
as we labor in this heat
doing a job no one wants
rotted lettuce under our feet
they come to take them
send away
our brothers and sisters in the night
put them on planes
like cattle to trains
while we know this isn’t right
Old hat lying on the ground
been slapped off my head
you think i’ll run away
not this night
time to fight
for my neighbors and my friends
sons and daughters hear me now
before I go away
that Old hat been worn before
in moments such as these, so
we’ll fight till they drag our corpses away
pick it up that Old hat put it on
though
i know it has nothing to say
what’s been underneath it
will make you proud
until your dying day
