Banks of Marble

by Les Rice

I’ve travelled round this country from shore to shining shore

And it really made me wonder, all the things I heard and saw.

I saw the poor dirt farmer, plowing sod and loam

I heard the auction hammer, a knockin’ down his home

But the banks are made of marble with a guard at every door

And the vaults are stuffed with silver that the farmer sweated for.

I saw the seaman standing, idly by the shore

I heard the bosses saying, “Got no work for you no more.”

I saw the worn-out miner, scrubbing coal dust from his back;

I heard his children crying, “Got no coal to heat the shack”.

But the banks are made of marble with a guard at every door

And the vaults are stuffed with silver that the farmer sweated for.

I saw the weary mother working two jobs in one day;

Low wages at the factory, and at home, she gets no pay.

I see the women working in the sweatshops and the store

In the office and the factory, and at night they scrub the floor.

But the banks are made of marble with a guard at every door

And the vaults are stuffed with silver that the farmer sweated for.

I’ve seen my fellow workers throughout this mighty land;

And I swore we’d get together and together take a stand.

Then we’ll own those banks of marble and we’ll open every door

And we’ll share those vaults of silver that we all have sweated for.