If you want nothing before you are dead,
Shake hands with your boss and look wise.
Come, all ye workers, from every land,
Come, join in the grand Industrial band,
Then we our share of this earth shall demand.
Come on! Do your share, like a man.
THE DOLLAR ALARM CLOCK
(Air: "Old oaken Bucket")
By John Healy
How dear to my heart are those chimes in the morning,
That yank me from bed with melodious thrill;
How sweet is the sound of the regular warning
That yells that it's time that I hike to the mill.
Without it I'd sleep till the sun had arisen
Be late to the job that my boss lets me use;
Get canned, perhaps steal, Maybe land in a prison
If the chimes didn't hustle me out of my snooze.
CHORUS:
The faithful alarm clock
The rattling alarm clock;
The dollar alarm clock
That rests on my shelf.
What a blessing it was when the thing was invented
It beats the slave-driver who came with his stick;
It rests on the shelf in the shack that I rented
It never gets hungry; it never gets sick.
If overly weary I take a tin bucket
And place the alarm clock down into the thing,
When it chimes in the morning it doubles the racket;
It would wake up the dead when the two of them ring.
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