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The Ghost Walks
I wonder if you understand
Why people always say,
"The ghost is walking" when you go
To get your hard-earned pay?
About this thing your "pay," my lads,
I've got a word to say:
'Tis but a "ghost" that flits about
And always flies away.
It's true that with your horny hands
You labor every day,
Yet you get nothing but a "ghost"
To keep the wolf away.
You house the world and clothe the world
And feed the world each day,
Yet you get nothing but a "ghost"
To keep the wolf away.
Your bosses are well-fed and fat,
Their smiles are blithe and gay.
They do not rob you with a gun,—
They have a better way.
They have a better way, my lads,—
They give a "ghost" for pay;
You toil and moil because you must,
They rob because they may.
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