Alone they'll keep you down
Throw you out, laugh at you
And when you try to do something about it
They'll lock you in the nearest slammer
And the only thing you can say about it
is: "That's some tough shit, man!"
With two, three, four,
It would be the same story1
They'd take out their batons
Smack us on the small of our backs good
And the only thing you can say about it
is: "That's some tough shit, man!"
A hundred or a thousand would slowly become a ringing in their ears
They'd surely say, "that's not much,"
But a thousand is nothing to laugh at 2
And what isn't may yet be
We can increase our numbers pretty fast
In the country we live,
there's just a few million.
When we're unified,
I think quite a different wind will be blowing.
Then they won't laugh anymore
Instead they'll hit the road
To the Bahamas, or Ticino,
The devil knows best where.
And you know that will happen
Once we organize (7x)
1. literally, "nothing different would also happen."2. literally, "it's not cardboard stem." idiom