Four men swinging in the wind. (x2)
Hey Mama, did they go down to Haymarket?
Was that their only sin?
They fought to bring us eight hours. The general strike, for eight hours
But the state devours when it can win
Bullets and batons are their power
(Chorus) The day will come when our silence will be more powerful than the voices you throttle today
They killed some strikers at McCormick's, so in the papers the anarchists
swore they'd tear the rich down from their high tower
Called a meeting at Haymarket
The mayor said all was quiet. Police, go home. There'll be no riot
But Bonfield sent his men in there to crack some skulls
Dead bodies gathered there in piles
They called the rebels instigators. Make raids now look up laws later
And hang one man for every hour
Make examples of their leaders
Five men waiting on the gallows (x2)
Grave Digger, dig them graves shallow
They'll be rising up tomorrow
Now there’s four men swingin’ in the wind. Four men swingin’ in the wind
Only two were even down at Haymarket
It’s not the end it’s the beginning. (x3)
Remember, we are the beginning.