No. 47. There Comes a Reckoning Day.
Air: "Susannah, don't You Cry."
1. I had a dream the other night when every thing was still;
I dreamt I saw the lab'ring men all going down the hill;
Their clothes were rags their feet were bare, a tear was in their eye;
Said I, my friend, what grieves you so, and causes you to cry?
O, bondholders, take pity, now, we pray.
We're out of food and out of clothes —
There comes a reckoning day.
2. We have to work to earn our bread, and our children cry for food;
Have scarce a place to lay our heads, complaining does no good;
We hate to beg, we will not steal, pray tell us what to do;
We cannot starve — what shall we do? — we leave the case to you.
3. Our greenbacks 're gone, you've made us poor, reduced us all to slaves
You took our means, you took our homes, you've treated us as knaves.
We fought your battles, saved your homes, took greenbacks as our pay,
Now, when we ask for work or bread, you boldly answer, nay.
4. Bring in your bonds and get the cash the same you gave to us;
'Twas greenbacks then, 'tis greenbacks now; we'll end this little muss.
We must have money through the land, and business lively, too;
We'll feed the hungry, clothe the poor, with work for all to do.
5. You own the bonds but pay no tax, for justice now we cry.
You bought with greenbacks, now ask for gold; pray tell us how and why?
Who promised you to pay in gold? the people now inquire.
We'll keep our contract, you keep yours, as honest men admire.