作词 : Cutler, Frith As I stood at my Bench And the job hurried By- While my hands did Their work A tear fell from my Eye, And another, and soon Though I couldn't say Why, I felt such a sorrow I wanted to Die My hands went on Working The work hurried by, My life like a Desert, I empty inside, And I shook at my bench, And I cried and I cried And my hands went on Working And the work Hurried by
The Song of the Dignity of Labour Under Capital歌词
