﻿Dirge 
The workingclass had lots of sense, 
When hunger came; 
Our trenchant knowledge was immense, 
When hunger came; 
In worldly wisdom we were wise— 
To this the inner-man replies: 
“We knew not how to organize 
And win the game” 
 
Too prone perhaps were we to run 
When showdown came 
Perhaps we may have even won 
A slackers name 
No nary thing did we aright 
Our wars were anyybody’s fight 
And still we proved our latent might: 
We died as ONE