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Showing posts from May, 2012

The dream of workers' heaven in an old labor song

This mill was made of marble The machine was made out of gold, And nobody ever got tired, And nobody ever grew old. This mill was built in a garden- No dust or lint could be found. The air so fresh and so fragrant With flowers and trees all around... When I woke from this dream about heaven I wondered if someday there'd be A mill like that one down below here on earth For workers like you and me. - Anonymous