The Death of Harry Simms

Aunt Molly Jackson
Lingua: Inglese

Come and listen to my story,
Come and listen to my song;
I'll tell you of a hero
That now is dead and gone;
I'll tell you of a young boy.
His age it was nineteen;
He was the bravest union man
That ever I have seen.

Harry Simms was a pal of mine,
We labored side by side,
Expecting to be shot on sight
Or taken for a ride
By some life-stealing gun thug
That roams from town to town
To shoot and kill our union men
Where e'er they may be found.

Harry Simms and I was parted
At five o’clock that day.
"Be careful, my dear brother."
To Harry I did say.
"Now I must do my duty,"
Was his reply to me;
"lf I get killed by gun thugs
Don't grieve after me."

Harry Simms was walking up the track
That bright sunshiny day;
He was a youth of courage,
His steps was light and gay;
He did not know the gun thugs
Was hiding on the way
To kill our brave young hero
That bright sunshiny day.

Harry Simms was killed on Brush Creek
In nineteen thirty-two;
He organized the miners
Into the N. M. U.;
He gave his life in struggle,
'Twas all that he could do;
He died for the union,
He died for me and you.

The thugs can kill our leaders
And cause us to shed tears,
But they cannot kill our spirit
If they try a million years;
We have learned our lesson
Now we all realize
A union struggle must go on
Till we are organized.

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