文本歌词

Vanzetti's Letter - Woody Guthrie
Written by：Woody Guthrie
The year it is 1927
An' the day is the third day of may
Town is the city called Boston an' our address this dark Dedham jail
To your honor
The Governor Fuller to the council of Massachussetts state
We Bartolomo Vanzetti an' Nicola Sacco do say
Confined to our jail here at Dedham an' under the sentence of death
We pray you do exercise your powers an' look at the facts of our case
We do not ask you for a pardon
For a pardon would admit of our guilt
Since we are both innocent workers we have no guilt to admit
We are both born by parents in Italy can't speak English too well
Our friends of labor are writin' these words back of the barsin our cell
Our friends say if we speak too plain sir we may turn your feelings away
Widen these canyons between us but we risk our life to talk plain
We think sir that each human bein' is in
Close touch with all of man's kind
We think sir that each human bein' knows right from the wrong in his mind
We talk to you here as a man sir even knowing our opinions divide
We didn't kill the guards at South Braintree nor dream of such a terrible crime
We call your eye to this fact sir
We work with our hand and our brain
These robberies an' killings were done sir by professional bandit men
Sacco has been a good cutter Mrs Sacco their money has saved
I Vanzetti l could have saved money but I gave it as fast as received
I'm a dreamer a speaker an' a writer I fight on the working folks' side
Sacco is Boston's fastest shoe trimmer and he talks to the husbands and wives
We hunted your land and we found it hoped we'd find freedom of mind
Built up your land
This land of the free an' this is what we come to find
If we was those killers good Governor we'd not be so dumb and so blind
To pass out our handbills
And make workers' speeches out here by the scene of the crime
Those fifteen thousands of dollars the lawyers and judge said we took
Do we sir dress up like two gentlemen with that much in our pocketbook
Our names are on the long list of radicals of the Federal Government sir
They said that we needed watching as we peddled our literature
Judge Thayer's mind's made up sir when we walked into the court
Well he called us anarchistic bastards said lots of other things worse
They brought people down there to Brockton to look through the bars of our cell
Made us act out the motions of the killers
And still not so many could tell
Before the trial ever started the jury foreman did say
An' he cussed us an' said damn they well they'd ought to hang anyway
Our fatal mistake was carryin' our guns about which we had to tell lies
To keep the police from raiding the homes of workers believing like us
A labor paper or a picture a letter from a radical friend
An old cheap gun like you keep around home would torture good women and men
We all feared deporting and whipping torments to make us confess
The place where the workers are meeting the house your name and address
Well the officers said we feared something which they called a consciousness of guilt
We was afraid of wreckin' more homes and seein' more workers' blood spilt
Well the very first question they asked us was not about killing the clerks
But things about our labor movement and how our trade union works
Oh how could our jury see clearly when the lawyers and judges and cops
Called us low type Italians said we looked just like regular wops
Draft dodgers gun packers anarchists these vulgar sounding names
Blew dust in the eyes of jurors the crowd in the courtroom the same
We do not believe sir that torture beatings and killings and pains
Will lift man's eyes to a highest of view an' break his bilbos and chains
We believe that you must struggle for freedom before your freedom you'll gain
Freedom from fear sir and greed sir and your freedom to think higher things
This fight sir is not a new battle we did not make it last night
'Twas fought by God win Shelly Pisacane Tolstoy and Christ
It's bigger than the atoms
An' the sands of the desert planets that roll in the sky
Till workers get rid of their robbers well
It's worse sir to live than to die
Your excellency we're not askin' pardon but askin' to be set free
With liberty and pride sir and honor and a pardon we will not receive
A pardon you given to criminals who've broken the laws of the land
We don't ask you for pardon sir because we are innocent men
Well if you shake your head
No dear Governor of course our doom it is sealed
We hold up our heads like two sons of men
Seven years in these cells of steel
We walk down this corridor to death sir like workers have walked it before
But we'll work in our working class struggle if we live a thousand lives more