"As we come marching, marching in the beauty of the day,
A million darkened kitchens, a thousand mill lofts grey,
Are touched with all the radiance that a sudden sun discloses;
For the people hear us singing; 'Bread and roses! Bread and roses!'
As we come marching, marching, we battle too for men,
For they are women's children and we mother them again,
Our lives shall not be sweated from birth until life closes;
Hearts starve as well as bodies, give us bread but give us roses!
As we come marching, marching,unnumbered women dead
Go crying through our singing their ancient cry for bread.
Small art and love and beauty their drudging spirits knew.
Yes, it is bread we fight for but we fight for roses too!"
Source: The Bread and Roses Pub, Clapham, LondonA million darkened kitchens, a thousand mill lofts grey,
Are touched with all the radiance that a sudden sun discloses;
For the people hear us singing; 'Bread and roses! Bread and roses!'
As we come marching, marching, we battle too for men,
For they are women's children and we mother them again,
Our lives shall not be sweated from birth until life closes;
Hearts starve as well as bodies, give us bread but give us roses!
As we come marching, marching,unnumbered women dead
Go crying through our singing their ancient cry for bread.
Small art and love and beauty their drudging spirits knew.
Yes, it is bread we fight for but we fight for roses too!"
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