My Thirty Thousand

Paul Robeson, he’s the man

That faced the Ku Klux Klan

On hollow grove’s golfing ground

His words come sounding

And all around him there

To jump and clap and cheer

I sent the best I had, the best I had

My thirty thousand

The Klansman leader said

That Paul would lose his head

When thirty five thousand vets

Broke up that concert

But less than four thousand came

To side with the Klan

But around Paul’s lonesome oak

My thirty thousand

A beersoaked brassy band

Did snortle round the grounds

Four hundred noblest souls

Westchester’s manhood

And they looked exactly like

The fleas on a tiger’s back

Lost fish in the waters of

My thirty thousand

When Paul had sung and gone

And the kids and babies home

Cops came with guns and clubs

And they clubbed and beat 'em

Well, I’d hate to be a cop

Caught with a bloody stick

'Cause you can’t bash the brains

Out of thirty thousand

Each eye you tried to gouge

Each skull you tried to crack

Has a thousand, thousand friends

Around this green grass

If you furnish the skull someday

I'll pass out the clubs and guns

To the billion hands that love

My thirty thousand

Each wrinkle on your face

I know it at a glance

You cannot run and hide

Nor duck nor dodge them

And your carcass and your deeds

Will fertilize the seeds

Of the men that stood to guard

My thirty thousand

Of the men that stood to guard

My thirty thousand