Oh, they'll get their bellies full some day.

It can't last forever.

They'll wake up the wrong kind of man some morning, the man that's got guts in him, that will hit back when he's kicked and that will talk to 'em with a torch in one hand and a stick of dynamite in the other." He raised his clenched fists in the air.

"So help me, God," he cried, "when I think it all over I go crazy, I see red.

Oh, if the people only knew their strength.