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    The Working Song
    by Breton Braley

    Oh, we're sick to death of the style of song
        That's only a sort of a simpering song,
    A kissy song and a sissy song
        Or a weepy, creepy, whimpering song.
    So give us a lift of a lusty song,
        A boisterous, bubbling, boiling song,
    Or a smashing song and a dashing song,
        Oh, give us the tang of a toiling song,
    The chanty loud of the working crowd,
        The thunderous thrall of a toiling song!

   Ay, sing us a joyous daring song,
       Not a moaning, groaning, fretting song,
    But a ringing song, and a swinging song,
        A rigorous, vigorous, sweating song.
    We have had enough of the gypsy song,
        Which is only a lazy, shirking song,
    So toughen your throat to a rougher note
        And give us the tune of a working song,
    A tune of strife and the joy of life,
        The beat and throb of a working song!

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