The free? Who said the free? Not me? Surely not me? The millions on relief today? The millions shot down when we strike? 55 The millions who have nothing for our pay? For all the dreams we've dreamed And all the songs we've sung And all the hopes we've held And all the flags we've hung, 60 The millions who have nothing for our pay – Except the dream that's almost dead today. O, let be again – The land that never has been yet – And yet must be the land where man is free. every – 65 The land that's mine the poor man's, Indian's, Negro's, ME – – Who made America, Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain, Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain, Must bring back our mighty dream again. 70 Sure, call me any ugly name you choose – The steel of freedom does not stain. From those who live like leeches on the people's lives, We must take back our land again, ! 75 O, yes, I say it plain,
55 60 65 70 75 The free? Who said the free? Not me? Surely not me? The millions on relief today? The millions shot down when we strike? The millions who have nothing for our pay? For all the dreams we've dreamed And all the songs we've sung And all the hopes we've held And all the flags we've hung, The millions who have nothing for our pay – Except the dream that's almost dead today. O, let be again – The land that never has been yet – And yet must be – the land where every man is free. The land that's mine – the poor man's, Indian's, Negro's, ME – Who made America, Whose sweat and blood, whose faith and pain, Whose hand at the foundry, whose plow in the rain, Must bring back our mighty dream again. Sure, call me any ugly name you choose – The steel of freedom does not stain. From those who live like leeches on the people's lives, We must take back our land again, ! O, yes, I say it plain,
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